Operation Japril
by FaziO
Summary: Split-second, life & death decisions are the basic prescriptions of Surgeons April & Jackson's lives. So how to remedy a previous botched operation that has fragmented a whole into two broken halves?
1. Prologue

**Operation Japril**

 **Calling ALL Japril Fans…**

 **I have condensed, changed and added to the stories I have posted on here for a story submission on Inkitt. The story is called Operation Japril. The reason, Dear Japrilites, for this little note is that Inkitt has a Fandom Writing Contest running at the moment with votes closing on the 28** **th** **of October 2015 & I would appreciate the support – for myself & on behalf of the Japril Fandom. So please go and vote…**

 **Spelling out the link here ;-)**

 **3 w's dot inkitt dot com forward slash stories forward slash 35050**

 **Happy Reading and Voting Everyone & if you're so inclined would love to receive reviews too.**

 **Many Thanks…**

 **FaziO**

* * *

 **Relying on the kindness of strangers...and friends**

 **Thank you so much to all you wonderful readers who voted and supported this submission on Inkitt. Please forgive my presumptuousness and extreme self-promotion, it was never about a popularity contest but perhaps just reaching other avenues and of course Japril lovers unfamiliar with this fanfiction site.**

 **For those of you who enjoy reading the stories over here I am posting the completed story submission on Inkitt over here and follows in the subsequent chapters.**

 **Although it's basically everything I've written so far (with the exception of "Red", which is a stand alone story) I've added 2 completely new chapters and changed up some chapters for a consistent story and time line. So it's not really a regurgitation of an old, tired idea - I've freshened it up dear readers ;-)**

 **Hope you enjoy this and please feel free to drop a review. I'm always encouraged by the readership here so a heartfelt thank you once again!**

 **FaziO**

* * *

 **Aah, so the fandom competition on Inkitt has come around again, if anyone is so inclined to vote here's the link again ;-)**

 **3 w's dot inkitt dot com forward slash stories forward slash 35050**

 **Thank You**

 **FaziO**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

She stood and stacked shelves, quite forcefully. Why was Hunt treating her this way? Shiskabob was HER surgery and she'd made every right call! How could storm prep trump that surgery?! Owen was sidelining her and even though she'd stood up to him, demanding that he let her stay for the surgery, which he'd point-blank refused, beneath it all was a very real hurt – her mentor had no faith in her. 

Attuned as she always was to his presence, she turned around, her thoughts and castigation's still swirling through her mind. His excitement was palpable. She really hadn't seen him this exhilarated in quite a while, probably not since the very last occasion he'd been in the OR. Well, to be honest, his comings and goings was not something she'd been privy to in a long time. The last time she'd seen his eyes so lit up he'd been lifting her off her feet, kissing her thoroughly and promising her a huge freaking wedding in a field with butterflies. Or perhaps still, the morning on that emotional roller coaster of a day when he made that proposal – in the on-call room, when she'd gazed down into his beautiful eyes as she climaxed. 

"Stop it!" she whispered to herself. Shut down those memories immediately, she thought. Those eyes, that smile, that body...it all belonged to Stephanie now. If she let down her walls for even one tiny, minuscule second all the pain of losing him, losing them, would come flooding right back, rendering her incapable of speech, thought and action. Yeah, in her more lucid moments she admitted to herself she loved him – totally, unequivocally. But he'd moved on from April Kepner… 

* * *

He strode briskly down the corridor, pumped up with adrenaline, excitement in every step, eyes peeled looking for the one person who understood him, who was always there in his moments of triumph …and defeat. He spotted her easily – she's like a beacon to him and not primarily because of her red hair. She was arranging shelves, which he found odd to begin with, and her irritation with the task was quite apparent. Her dimpled smile, which he has always adored, was nowhere in evidence. 

He knew that to many of their colleagues she appeared to be a rambling mess with no filter, saying everything that popped into her head – a veritable erupting geyser. It still surprised him that not one of their peers could see beyond their own narrow perceptions of her behavior to her character. Alex was the worst. He needled her to such a degree that he sometimes felt that blood was about to be spilt, and it wasn't going to be hers. 

If any one of them bothered to look beyond the tips of their noses they would realize exactly what an intelligently perceptive person April really was, how observant she was to not only her surroundings but also the people within her orbit. She was layered and nuanced and he valued her opinion above all others, including those of his mother and grandfather. She had a wonderful bed-side manner too, because she gave all of her attention (and her soft heart) to the person in front of her, who at this moment happened to be Jackson Avery… 

* * *

"Hey, I just closed a mid-line facial cleft...Primary Surgeon!" he proudly announced, followed immediately by "What's wrong?" when he noticed her obvious annoyance.

"I don't know!" she uttered with a hint of frustration. "Hunt is actively keeping me from surgeries. I don't know if he thinks that I'm going to fail my boards again or maybe he's just finally realized that I make a better secretary then a surgeon," she exasperatedly voiced.

"So I'll talk to him," he remarked matter-of-factly, still with that undercurrent of excitement.

"No," she softly whispered. "Don't…don't…I don't want you to fight for me," was her forlorn response.

Before he can wrap his head around that statement a nurse approaches with news of incoming trauma and April expresses her discontent with "Great, something else I can get kicked off of!" 

The whole situation seemed weird to Jackson. He knew that April was not want to make spurious allegations, so why would Hunt keep her away from surgery? A surgery, mind you, which would not only help her in preparation for her second attempt at the Boards but also one that was, by rights, hers to perform? He also noticed a feeling of anticipation in the air, in the people swiftly walking past him in the corridor – it all seemed incongruent with the tension one would normally associate with a severe storm warning. So he followed the hoard, all of whom, surprisingly, seemed to be heading to one area...the Trauma Bay. 

* * *

No use crying over spilt milk...or lost surgeries, she thought. She needed to focus, to remove all that from her mind. Every patient deserved her total and undivided attention. She swiftly approached the stretcher.

"What have we got?" she quizzed.

"48 year old male complaining of tightness in his chest. He says he feels like his heart is going to burst," responded Nicole. She was Matthew's partner and fellow paramedic, who happened to be partnered with Scott that day. April was so focused on the casualty that she failed to notice the smirk that Nicole didn't bother to hide.

"We're going to take care of you, sir," she reassured the patient when suddenly he started breathing heavily.

"Is he seizing?" she questioned but the paramedics were surprisingly mum about additional patient information. While she was still processing that, she swore that she could suddenly hear music playing.

Before her brain could fully process that this was not a trauma case at all, the patient hopped of the gurney and started the dance move 'Walk like an Egyptian', immediately copied by Nicole and Scott. The doors to the second ambulance in the bay burst open and April spotted some familiar faces in between the strangers who started dancing around her. 

It was a Flash Mob! April started giggling helplessly as she realized that Matthew had planned this for her. 

* * *

Jackson pushed through the crowd of interns, residents, attendings and nurses gathered outside. Who the heck was seeing to the patients, he wondered, just as he spotted exactly what sort of spectacle had everyone so spellbound. All around him his friends and colleagues were all acting cool and unfazed but secretly enjoying the very catchy musical number being danced out in front of them.

His attention zeroed in immediately to her musical laughter. She was mesmerized by that dork and troop twirling all around her and he immediately started seeing red. Heck no, he was not going to stand here and watch that damn paramedic propose to her!

How did they get so messed up that he was oblivious to the lead up to this moment? Weren't they each others go to person for everything? How did he not know that she and Matthew were so serious?

Jumbled thoughts ran through his mind. She belonged to him dammit! It was his duty to protect her – Mercy West forever! Before he could calmly analyze the situation, he acted. Before the mob could gently lead her to a nurse's chair that, like everything else, just magically appeared, he bent down lifted her over his shoulder in a fireman's lift and carried her away….


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Jackson, what are you doing? Put me down. Did you see what Matthew just did? How could you just take me away from there? Where are you taking me? I can't see anything, put me down! Jackson? Jackson, answer me, dammit! I'm getting dizzy and the only view I have here is your wobbly butt. Jackson, really, come on, I have to go back, what will Matthew be thinking?! Oh God, what will everyone be thinking? I have to go find Matthew. Put me down, NOW! Jackson!" 

"Okay, okay, calm down. Wait, did you just say wobbly butt, wobbly as in jello? Did you just call me fat? And not in the good way!" 

"Well, if the Nikes fit…wait, how is fat good?" 

"When it's phat – P-H-A-T, Pretty, Hot and Tempting," the slang king educated her. As an added bonus he accompanied the spelling with a comical eyebrow wiggle, which lost its effect when you consider that her only view of him was his phat butt. 

"Come on Jackson, I really can't have an upside-down conversation with you. I mean, you up and me down, I mean…you know what I mean! Just put me down!" The decibel her voice reached was just short of yelling. 

Jackson had mastered the one-armed carry with April. She was such a light-weight so he never really needed to expand much effort in picking her up. Since she'd been such a willing participant in their romps, she usually anchored herself to his body, leaving him with a free hand to deliciously roam over her exposed parts. But, this was not one of their romps – they were in fact as far away from romping with each other as it was possible to be, or not to be, as the case were. 

So he gently lifted his free left arm and placed it onto the middle of her back and with his right arm behind her knees he maneuvered her body slightly down, swung her around and into his arms. In anticipation of being put down and with such a height disparity between them, she first needed to steady herself and it was the most natural thing in the world for her to twine her arms around his neck. He couldn't let her go. 

He had this ability to concentrate totally on a person. When he focused those laser-beamed eyes on you, there's nowhere that you could hide – you're stripped bare for him to see, your vulnerabilities, your weaknesses all available for his perusal. What April failed to realize though, was that she had the same magical effect on him. He was raw, exposed and equally vulnerable to her – something that she, in her incomprehension, totally missed. 

* * *

To minimalize the effects of a freak out, he decided to carry on their conversation in the same vein. 

"I really can't let you go," he murmured. 

"Whaaat?" she stuttered, feeling her heart swell with hope, did he mean what she thought he meant… 

"Not until you apologize for the fat crack," he quipped. 

Unwitting laughter bubbled out of her throat, the pealing sound so infectious that, as usual, he couldn't help but join in – he's never been able to resist her melodic laugh even on the very rare occasion when he's been the punchline. 

True, he tends to be the one that usually metes it out. I mean, he's renowned for his sarcastic wit, but she is more than capable of dishing it out too, although in a surprisingly subtle way. How could he ever forget the first time they were together and their conversation after? 

"Don't you have to get your pencil?" she'd asked, not to be funny mind you but their euphoria made it seem hilarious and they both giggled through a slightly uncomfortable 'after'. 

"Jackson," she sighed once her laughter had waned. "Why am I still here?" 

"Well, I don't hear an apology," he lightly continued. 

"Well, you're not going to!" she returns, squirming in his arms. 

"Really, so I need to start going back to the gym huh?" he carries on with the delicate questions knowing that the big guns were coming out soon. 

"You know I'm just kidding, wobbly!" she laughs as she swats his chest with the back of her hand and continues. "You're so vain, Pretty Boy, you know your butt is delic…uh…phat...uh...just put me down, Jack..son.." 

He doesn't bother to hide his smirk but taking pity on her he decides to respond to her first statement, "Oh no, you didn't just go back there!" he teases, but immediately notices the shift in her expression – 'back there' or his figurative behind, is where they had to go to! Time now for the tough conversation, he thought. 

"When were you going to tell me how serious it is with you and the Paramedic?" he jumped right in. "We're best friends, aren't we and this is how I find out, when he's proposing to you?" He starts of calmly but his voice quickly escalates in strength and speed but not volume, because the angrier he gets, the softer his tone becomes, somehow seems more lethal than shouting and screaming. 

"Oh you mean like when you told me about you and Stephanie?" she fires back, "and he hasn't proposed, you stopped it dead in its tracks. Why would you do that?" she exclaims – the ball's very firmly back in his court. 

He just shakes his head, how have they reached this point, both so stubborn, neither one willing to be the first to bend. 

"Why does this bother you so much? You made it very clear that you've moved on. So what? You just want me to live in limbo, pining away for you while you rub it in my face that not only are you happy with your intern but that I am so inconsequential to you that I don't even merit respect enough for you to not get it on with her in on-call rooms at MY place of work! Not only _damn_ unprofessional but _damn_ disrespectful and _so_ humiliating. But you know what? I get it. I got the message! We were obviously a mistake and you never really wanted me...JUST PUT ME DOWN JACKSON!" she wailed the last bit accompanying it with a few hard smacks to his chest. 

"Whoa, how could you think that, much less say it and NO I'm not putting you down – you'll just escape and with it our friendship." Dumfounded he just stared at her, unable to say anything else until he realized that with all the squirming she's doing she'll soon be able to jump out of his arms and flee. And yet again the situation between them will remain unresolved and actually from what she's already spilt, their friendship will forever be unrecoverable. He tightens his hold on her and starts pacing up and down in the tiny confines of the on-call room he'd carried her into, mulling over how to address her very real hurt. 

"Why would you think that I never wanted you? Of course I wanted you! I even told you that it wasn't just sex, that I had feelings for you, so where is this coming from? And about Stephanie, I told you it isn't serious, we're just having fun," he started, only to be met with a scoff from her. 

"What feelings Jackson? You said feelings but then what? We thought I was pregnant, you proposed, I wasn't, you broke up with me and started sleeping with an intern, where are all the feelings in that?" she cries, poking him in the chest with each point she's making. 

"Why don't you just admit that you never wanted me! Why the hell couldn't you be honest instead of Mr Nice Guy when I kissed you in San Francisco. Why couldn't you just tell me that, like everyone else has said, I'm grating and irritating and get on your nerves and that you never wanted me. Believe me I do have some pride, I would never have given you my virginity if I thought that you didn't want to be with me." 

He's stunned by the words coming out of her mouth and horrified by the silent tears trickling down her reddened cheeks. 

"How could you doubt that I wanted you, April? I _loved_ being with you! I wasn't being nice about it, I wanted to be with you in San Francisco…and after. I didn't know if _you_ really wanted to be with _me!_ I was bumming out Jesus, remember?" 

"Really Jackson, so why did we break up when I wasn't pregnant huh? Although how can you break-up when you're not really in a relationship right? We never even _went out_ , just had sex. My God I can't believe I was that girl, the one desperate enough for a guys attention that all I was to him was convenient sex." 

"You were never that April, you were…" 

She interrupts him before he can even formulate the thought, "Then why Jackson, why didn't you pick me? Was my inexperience such a turn-off? Why did you choose her over me? Sex with her must be off the charts...please just let me go," she whispers softly, all cried out. "You chose her," she murmurs almost inaudibly the hurt so apparent in her voice that all he wants to do is comfort her. 

He leans his forehead onto hers and she sees the sheen in his eyes mirroring her tears. 

He whispers softly, "You hurt me too, April. You didn't want me when I wanted you. I was just the guy you banged in a bathroom stall when you freaked out over your Boards. You were so happy to not be having my baby…" 

"No, Jackson. I was happy that you wouldn't be trapped in a marriage, that you wouldn't have to resent me and your child, that we would have the opportunity to do everything in the right order. We could slowly fall in love, you could be secure in a specialty that mattered to you, we could get married and _then_ have a baby. You stepped up when we thought I was pregnant and I'll always love you for that but I never wanted to be your burden, I just wanted to be you love." 

"April…" he starts, but once again she interrupts him with the finality of her words. 

"I just want you to be happy and maybe I'll be happy too. With Matthew. And you know what? I'm discharging you from your 'Mercy West Forever, Best Friend' duties. I'm sorry that I clung to you so much after the shooting but you can be free now, free to be with Stephanie – let her become your friend because that's what I want for you...a great love not someone you have to settle for!" 

With that goodbye resounding in his ears, she pecks him on the cheek, jumps out of his arms, wipes away her tears, straightens her clothes and leaves him alone to contemplate an existence without her, without even her friendship. 

Reflecting on everything that she's said he comes to the realization that she's right. He never showed her that he loves her, everything about her. When did he become such a coward? 

And while she's never said those 3 words, 8 letters, directly to him, her feelings were kind of obvious. She was the bravest person he knew for she wore her heart on her sleeve for all to see. She loved fully and that's what made her such an awesome doctor, but more importantly that's what made her _his_ perfect love. He was going to prove it to her – he was going to fight for her!


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

He strode briskly down the corridor, so intent on his telephone conversation that he was oblivious to all the staring and whispering. 

"I don't care how much it costs, I want it delivered today," he negotiates. 

He listens to the protests on the other end of the line but firmly maintains his stance. "Yes, I know there's a super storm approaching but this is Seattle, when is it never raining." 

As he doesn't seem to be making much headway, he appeals to the guys humanity, "Come on man, please, it's a matter of urgency – life and death if you will, it has to be here today!" 

When even that request falls on deaf ears he knows there's only one surefire way to get it here, appeal to the mercenary! "Okay, what will it take for me to get it here today? I'm willing to pay you extra…double your transport costs, but it has to be here today, no later, or no bonus." 

Receiving his confirmation he happily ends his call – Mission 1 accomplished, or at least partly realized. Next, Mission "Almost" Impossible. He needs to find Hunt and convene a meeting of the Board, which is tantamount to herding a flock of recalcitrant sheep to where they don't want to go. 

* * *

Chief Hunt surprises him. He was very cold at first. It seems that the chief has a soft spot for his Soldier and obviously would approve an Emergency First Responder as a suitable lifetime companion for her. It also explains why April was evicted from the Shishkabob Surgery – Hunt was apparently in cahoots with Matthew on the whole Flash Mob Proposal and his contribution was keeping April available to "Incoming Trauma" and out of the OR. 

However, history does trump commonality and Jackson has, albeit slowly, managed to earn the Trauma Attending's trust – well enough to get him to listen to him and thereafter corral the Grey-Sloan Board Members into a meeting where he confidently gets their unanimous approval. Although, to be perfectly frank he doesn't really need their endorsement, being that he represents The Harper Avery Foundation and 51% of the Board. But he wants it…and he wants to know where each one of them stands on the issue and most importantly he wants them to know the what, why, how and especially the for whom this is being done. 

* * *

Onward and upward, he's not looking forward to the next task for the simple reason that it makes him feel like a douche – it's something that he should have done when he saw how much it hurt April but at that moment in time a tiny part of himself reveled in her misery. He was just so angry with her for what he perceived as her scorn. 

He couldn't measure up to the high levels required to be an equal partner in her life. He was only good enough to be her sex buddy – or so he felt that was how she viewed him – so he decided to show her that someone else wanted him, desperately so and to the extent of practically worshipping him. Someone she had set him up with. Someone so easy that he never had to expand an ounce of effort on her. Someone with whom he would never know the lows that April was capable of bringing him down too, but also with whom he never experienced any of the wonderful highs. 

Physically he was just scratching an itch and because he hated that he had become THAT Attending he consciously decided not to BE that Attending. So he continued to 'see' Stephanie and he convinced himself that he was a good man. 

But through it all he missed her. They were so physically in tune to each other and April, she shed all her inhibitions when she was with him. She rocked his world whenever they came together intimately and he'd never come close, before or after her, to that euphoria. 

It killed him to imagine her with anyone else and after their talk his guilt knew no bounds – he'd been so successful in projecting that image of moving on from her that he'd hurt her tremendously. It was time now to step-up, and even though Matthew might not know it yet he was in for the fight of his life. He was not letting go of April, but first he had to break-up with Stephanie. 

* * *

Why is it that when you look for someone you can never find them, he thought. He'd just about given up hope when he heard Alex's intern Jo talking to someone, so he stopped to listen. When he realized that it was Stephanie she was talking to, he felt relieved – finally he could get this over with. Not to be rude or to embarrass her, Jackson decided to wait out their conversation but his inadvertent eavesdropping garnered him some unexpected truths. 

"Yeah, so I finally managed to convince Matthew that it was nothing. He had to rush away but he'll be coming back soon and that proposal can finally happen and that dud can stop being such a thorn in my side!" Words uttered with such vitriol that the voice was almost unrecognizable as Stephanie's. 

"Come on Steph, that's mean. I thought you said that she was bitchin', she showed you how to run the ER, and she was an excellent teacher to both you and Shane – you even took back the dud nickname and…" 

"That was before she stole my man, Jo!" Stephanie rudely interrupts, "and anyway what do you know about it? Your judgment sucks! I mean, Chest Peckwell Jo? Really? Jackson isn't like Peckwell or even Karev. Skanks will totally try and steal him from me and that's what she is Jo, a dud and a skank," she oh so virtuously surmises, so self-absorbed that she's totally oblivious to the sleeping ass-kicking giant she's just awoken – the "don't mess with me" intern who just rearranged the pretty face of Jason Myers, the predator… 

"Really Steph, you're gonna go there with me? You forget I know who's the REAL skank. I've been there from when you first started stalking him and I know everything you did, and are still doing. You really don't want to bring up my behavior and choices," utters Jo in a low, dangerous voice but Stephanie doesn't heed the apparent warning in her words and tone. 

"I'm nothing like you Jo! I'm not that girl, the girl who gets pitied, the girl who's not good enough or smart enough or pretty enough or not deserving. I'm not THAT girl," she arrogantly exclaims. 

Thoroughly pissed-off, Jo gets right into her face and starts enumerating to Stephanie exactly how much worse she is than the girl who gets pitied, punctuating each point with a sharp finger jab to the chest. "Let's see how you're not THAT girl," she begins. Jo attacks with a verbal barrage, a volley of all the moves that Stephanie has pulled in trying to bag herself the attending – the influential, wealthy, gorgeous attending, grandson of the Legendary Harper Avery and more recently Chairman of the Board of Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital. 

"Firstly, you were throwing yourself at him from when we got here! Props to him for not calling you out on it coz you were never subtle. You did let up when she returned but you kept abreast of hospital gossip, waiting for your opening. I mean anyone could see that they were doing the horizontal mumbo just by how they looked at each other and you yourself told me that you were in that surgery when they had that lovers spat and even though they were trying to be cryptic, you obviously got that they were together and so into each other," she fires her opening salvo. 

"Second, I know you fed into the hospital gossip mill. You were even depressed that they seemed to be all over each other, all over the hospital." 

"Thirdly, you befriended her even while calling her 'the dud' behind her back. You hedged your bets, ensuring that she chose you to be his 'date' to Dr. Bailey's wedding, when they were making whatever point they were making with each other – and boy were you classy, you had sex with him in the back of his car for God's sake, at a wedding where you knew she was present. You got your hooks into him good and tight, counting on his good guy persona to get him to treat you as more than just a one-time sexual encounter. You didn't give him a chance to work it out with her, even though anyone could see that they were miserable apart," physically she punctuates some of her words with air quotes. 

"I can't even tell if what you did next was altruistic or just to screw her over? Was it assuaging your guilt or to totally get her out of the picture huh, when you started pushing Matthew at her? You picked up on his interest and encouraged the guy to the extent that you got him to propose, _publically_ , today! You didn't foresee what 'Your Boyfriend' was gonna do, hey?" 

Barely taking a breath in between, she jumps to her most important point. "Let's not forget how you rubbed it in her face that you were having sex with him in on-call rooms all over the hospital, knowing that she would never take him back after that. Oh and by the way how many times did you two have sex at the hospital? Not even ONCE, because he stopped it, right?" she exclaims. 

Stephanie is quick to interject here, "I never did that!" she utters. 

"Oh, so fixing your hair and your clothes coming out of on-call rooms, essentially only when you saw her, was not your subtle cue? You forget I know how you operate Steph," responds Jo. 

"She never deserved him! White bread girl trying to steal all the best black men out there, can't even leave that for us," Stephanie mumbles to herself, but Jo doesn't let up on her. 

"Stop talking like you're from the ghetto Steph, you're more white bread then I am and than she is," she harshly interjects. 

Jackson, standing outside the staff lounge, is meanwhile struck dumb by all that he's overheard. His mother was right, he realized. He just never thought that Stephanie was _that_ intern –the one intent on bagging someone who could not only advance her career but who came from money and privilege and had the added advantage of being eye-candy. 

But then he mentally admitted to himself, he never thought much at all about Stephanie or her motives, even to the extent of being clueless to her all-out pursuit of him. It hits him in the gut – the only person who never put any labels on him was April. 

All his life he's been either 'Pretty Boy', 'Trust Fund Baby', 'Harper Avery's Grandson', 'Privileged Son of Famous Surgeons' or even 'Wealthy Black Man' but to April he was always just unequivocally, unconditionally her best friend. Finding out that not only had Stephanie been bad mouthing April but that she'd been systematically undermining and deliberately hurting her brought out his primal instincts – he's not going to allow anyone to ever cause her another moments pain and that goes for him too. Just then his beeper goes off. Hunt just came through, it's now time to deliver…. 

Stephanie and Jo both pop their heads through the doorway of the Interns Lounge, but fail to see anyone there. 

"I'm telling you Jo, I heard a beeper! Someone overheard us!" Stephanie hyperventilates. 

Jo, coolly and calmly responds, "It was _our_ beepers Steph. We're all required to immediately present ourselves in the GSM foyer. Let's go," she instructs. 

* * *

Detouring through the ER, Jackson notices Matthew, who's obviously on the hunt for someone – either the beautiful redhead to declare himself or the conniving brunette for advice on how to reveal himself to the redhead, he acerbically reflects. He tries a quick get-away but is spotted. 

"Dr. Avery, I've been looking all over for you!" exclaims Matthew. 

Well he obviously misread that one, thinks Jackson. "What can I do for you Taylor?" he inquires. 

"Well you did walk off with my fiancé over your shoulder. Did you think I wouldn't be looking for you?" answers Matthew. 

"Your fiancé?" asks Jackson, more concerned with that title and when that could have occurred then Matthew flexing his muscles. 

"No, not yet," he replies, "but soon." He continues, surprising Jackson with his next words. "I want to apologize to you Dr. Avery. Your girlfriend explained to me that you're very protective of April, like a father figure to her. I'm sorry that I never made an attempt to get to know you, to allay any doubts you may have about my suitability as a husband and provider for her and in the absence of her father to ask you for her hand in marriage," Matthew seriously remarks. 

Jackson stands there with his mouth agape. "Seriously Dude?" he asks and before he can even contemplate saying more his beeper goes off again and he just turns and walks away, leaving a very confused Matthew following in his wake like a lost puppy. 

* * *

Since all staff (and one bewildered Paramedic) appear to be present in the foyer Chief Hunt, standing halfway down the staircase, begins his meeting. 

"Thank you all for coming. I know you're all busy so this won't take long," he begins. "The focus of this hospital has and always will be providing the best patient care possible and along with our newly revamped ER the Board has just approved the immediate implementation of Trauma Protocol Checklists. The workstations at every bed in the ER have already been integrated with the new charting system and have since this morning been upgraded to include the New Admissions Checklist, the author and inventor of which is our very own Dr. April Kepner. NAC is a vital tool in our arsenal, combating the fight against unnecessary, negligent patient death and incorporates, amongst others, the ABC's of patient care. NAC is clear-cut and unambiguous and implementation of the protocol is non-negotiable. The Board has instituted a clear zero-tolerance policy regarding non-conformance of NAC – any non-adherence to these protocols can and will result in disciplinary action towards anyone willfully ignoring these procedures and protocols. I'd like to lead you all in a round of applause for Dr. Kepner, whose name will be synonymous with NAC Protocol and to whom the checklists have been patented." 

Once the applause died down he continued, speaking directly to April. "Dr. Kepner, the Board has unanimously agreed that the protocols belong to you totally and you have permission to share it with any other hospitals and trauma centers," he finishes, but then pulls April aside for a personal acknowledgement. Hand on her shoulder he declares, "I'm proud of you soldier." 

April is in shock – this emotionally laden day has turned out very strange indeed. Receiving pats on the back, handshakes and sincere congratulations from her colleagues, nurses and attendings and not so sincere felicitations from the residents, she notices the two men in her life, past and present, both watching her intently. 

Matthew approaches her with a definite objective, to continue where he left of earlier. He even manages to remove a tiny, square jeweler's box from his pocket, but once again he is thwarted by Dr. Jackson Avery. 

* * *

Jackson grabs her hand and drags her to the ER. 

"Jackson, wh..at?" she stumbles. 

"I have one more thing to give to you April," he replies. 

"You mean, the Checklists…" she disjointedly asks. 

"Yeah, but all I did was present it to the Board – it was a unanimous decision to implement your protocols," he confirms. "But this," he continues, switching on the light to the X-ray room adjacent to the ER nurses station. "This is for you," he whispers. 

"Is that a…" she begins. 

"LODOX, yeah," he responds. "A …" 

"Low Dose Radiation X-Ray Stat Scan! Takes 13 seconds for a low exposure, high resolution, full body X-ray. Provides full body anterior and lateral views and the low radiation makes imaging safer for children and pregnant women. A cutting edge tool in diagnostic technology – you can completely evaluate a patient for GSW's, stab wounds, crush injuries all with this one machine in JUST 13 SECONDS," she excitedly counters. 

"I take it you like it," he laughs at her enthusiastic response, and proceeds to drop another bomb-shell on her. "All the budget was spent to revamp and open the ER, for you, so that you wouldn't leave GSM, so that you could practice the specialty that you love, so that you wouldn't leave me…" he softly voices, just gazing into her eyes. 

April gazes back at him, stunned. She understands. He knows her so well. How important her career is to her, how important it is to her to help others but to also be the best at it – she's competitive by nature and he's always pushed her to be her best. Oh, what a magnificent grand gesture! But was it too little too late? 

He sees the dawning of comprehension in her eyes but then they cloud over, looking at Matthew holding a different future in his hands. She has a choice to make and he's afraid that she can't get past all the hurt they've, and more specifically he, has caused. 

She opens her mouth to respond but both of their eyes are drawn to a terrible screeching sound from outside the ER. Jackson protectively covers her head with his arms and they both watch in horror as a bus veers into cars in the parking lot outside the hospital and flips onto its side….


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Trauma Queen Reigns. He watched her and she is stupendous. She is precise and controls the Emergency Room like a conductor guiding the performance of her orchestral melody to a thunderous conclusion. She does it not for the ovation, nor for the thrill – she does it for the sense of accomplishment, of completion, of finality. She is beautifully adorable, resplendent in her kind-heartedness and she was going to be his. 

Kick-Ass Trauma Surgeon, such a Badass. The ER is her battlefield and she is the General that commands her troops with military-like precision, yeah, she's a soldier. He's proud of her; she's accomplished and has, through hard-learned lessons, become thorough and efficiently competent. Her triumph as a surgeon though is that she is the champion of the individual, she sees a person not as a set of symptoms nor as an organ or a surgery but a human being as a whole, someone she'll do her utmost to assist. She is breathtaking and she was going to be his. 

Innovator of Trauma Protocols, my ass. Checking Airway, Breathing and Circulation is self-evident and has always been the starting point of diagnosis in a trauma situation. So where does Ms Self-Important Kepner become a leading authority on the ABC's of Trauma Protocols? Okay, so she is meticulous about how the ER is run and she does have a systematic order in dealing with trauma cases like the victims of this horrific bus accident. First and foremost though, she'll always be that incompetent dud that failed her boards at least once. She needs to stay away from Jackson or she was going to be hers – to deal with that is. 

She thrives on the chaos, the rush of adrenaline, the urgency of the moment. When lives hang in the balance, when everything happens at a heightened pace but also appears to take place in slow motion. That's the field of Trauma. Her speciality and her calling – what she was meant to do with her life. But today, surrounded by the turmoil and confusion of the bus accident, her attention is divided – the passengers from the bus take precedence but her uncertainty over the two men in her life is never far from her thoughts. Both men are equally extraordinary, one of whom she loves, but who has hurt her tremendously. The other, equally exceptional and so alike herself, who she knows will never cause her the excruciating pain of the first and who she knows she could learn to love. Who was she going to choose, who would be hers? 

* * *

Stephanie was not a happy camper. The pandemonium of the bus accident was not the only casualty of the Super Storm and apparently no back-up generator existed for the back-up generator that packed up when the inevitable power failure occurred. Ironic really that a Harper Avery controlled hospital was so busy shelling out money to upgrade the ER and Trauma Centre that basic first aid on the hospital itself elapsed. 

So with the advent of the power failure another crisis cropped up. Dr. Robbins required all the interns, including the ones not on her rotation, to assist with the care of 'tiny humans' and the reassurance of 'tiny human makers' as she called them. Before she was hauled away to this task however, she strategically decided on a quick-1-step plan of action. Before anyone, namely Jackson, could react she'd pulled a sudden catch and release on him. He never participated at all and was never even given the opportunity to push her away but to April and surrounding witnesses it looked like a swift passionate kiss shared by lovers. Swiftly walking away Stephanie gave herself a mental high-five, mission accomplished! 

* * *

Jackson was livid. He knew exactly what Stephanie was up to but circumstances being what they were and time conspiring against him he hadn't had the opportunity to confront her regarding her nefarious schemes and to break-up with her. He tried to get April's attention, to clarify what she'd observed. "April, please, stop for a second, I need to explain…" he started, only to be cut short. 

"What, Jackson? Now's not the time," she interrupted, but then predictably she overrode herself and continued. " What kind of game have you been playing with me all day today? Or was having something real just too much for you to handle? No, it's me right, you don't want me but at the same time you don't want to let me go? Your comfortable best-friend, moving on and becoming someone else's best friend, not being available to you anymore," she rambled on, caustic but adorable at the same time. 

She continued answering her own internal questions, mumbling more to herself then speaking to him. "So stupid, why did I assume that you were breaking up with her to be with me!" she scathingly mocked herself. "Anyway, I have to get these patients inside," she continued, calling out to her Paramedic boyfriend for help. "Matthew, please move these non-critical patients into the Trauma Centre immediately. I need to see who we still have to triage," she very firmly instructed. 

* * *

Matthew may have been slow on the uptake but he was by no means dense. He realized that he'd been played by Stephanie and that April, while not outright lying to him, had deliberately withheld the one-time status and obvious seriousness of her past relationship with Jackson Avery. He played the dunce for Avery, all the while highlighting to the man and to his own girlfriend that the guy was in a relationship and had a steady girlfriend. He even embraced the ridiculous by asking Avery in all seriousness for April's hand in marriage, not that his play garnered any response. 

After being used by Stephanie he had no interest in furthering her cause but necessity required that he 'dance with the devil' so he learnt the song. He was not giving up on April and Avery was in for the fight of his life. He consoled himself with the assurance that all indicators pointed to him being ahead in the polls. He was encouraged by April's reaction to that kiss just now. Her moral compass would never allow her to be 'the other woman' in a love triangle. He was determined that by the end of the storm she would be sporting a ring on a very significant finger… 

* * *

"Hurry, hurry," April shouted to the doctors and nurses still removing passengers from the bus. "I smell gas," she continued, a note of panic creeping into her voice. 

"There's a fuel leak somewhere," responded Jackson trying to focus solely on the emergency but so angry with April, Stephanie and yes mainly himself. He thought he'd made major strides with April but was back to square one and all because he hadn't gotten rid of the viper in his life after promising himself that he would not allow her to hurt April, not even one more time. 

"This thing is a ticking time bomb!" exclaimed Hunt to Jackson as they were removing the last woman from the bus. 

"Yeah," Jackson countered. "Do you smell that, there's gas everywhere," he retorted when suddenly the rescued woman grabbed his arm. 

"My daughter, she's three, have you seen her, is she okay?" she stuttered, worriedly begging for a response. Concentrating on her injuries and not knowing how to respond Jackson remained silent. "She's wearing pink high-tops, her name is Evelyn and I call her Evie," the woman fearfully stammered, her mother's instinct on high alert. 

"Everyone's inside ma'am, I'm sure that she's there," Hunt explained. 

Not acknowledging the Chief's words the woman continued gazing at Jackson, her eyes subconsciously pleading for him to physically confirm the little girl's safety. 

Jackson nodded his head – he would find Evie. 

* * *

April was beside herself; her heart thumping wildly, an uneasy feeling threatening to choke her. Matthew was in the Trauma Centre and she just saw Jackson helping to remove the last passenger from the bus a minute ago. She was just being ridiculous, everyone was fine. She noticed Hunt & Torres approaching with a gurney carrying the last patient and looking behind them saw nothing. 

"Where's Jackson?" she yelled to them, struggling to be heard above the storm, rain and disaster. 

"Right behind us!" boomed Callie. 

"No he's not!" she anxiously called back. Jackson, her heart stuttered, she had to find him. 

* * *

Jackson noticed a solitary pink high-top, abandoned and listing to one side. The little girl, he realized, was not with the others in the Trauma Centre. He looked around, walked behind the bus and glanced through a makeshift crawlspace caused by the bending and breaking of the exterior metal bus frame and there she was, all curled up in the corner wearing one neon pink high-top sneaker. 

"Hey, your name is Evie right?" he questioned in a soothing tone of voice. She appeared to be frozen with fear but he needed her to come to him – he would never get through the tiny opening and the bus was about to blow up, so he went about trying to convince her. "I like your shoes Evie, those are very cool. Bet you can run pretty fast in those huh? Hey you wanna race, I bet I can beat you! Come on just grab my hand, we can go right now, come on, here just take my hand," he cajoled. 

Seeing that his coaxing was not having the desired results he was about to try and push through the child-sized hole when two simultaneous events froze his movements. Evie reached out to him and over the sound of the rain and fire he heard the most awful, pain-filled screams piercing the air and he knew it was her – April was bellowing his name, complete agony resounding in every syllable she gutturally uttered. 

Since Evie was still too far into the belly of the bus he pushed himself a portion of the way through, wrenching his shoulder in the process. Gaining a hold on Evie he grasped her fully and made a run for it, all the while chanting to her but not to her, "I'm coming April, I'm coming…" 

He was a bit far off behind the broken hunk of metal that was once a vehicle, peering through the rain, smoke and broken windows of the bus when he glimpsed her in the distance – April was running towards the burning bus! Her name resounded heartbreakingly into the air around him, unaware that he was the one screaming it and he watched paralyzed as an explosion rant the night sky, lifting her high and flinging her body like a lifeless doll…


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

He sprints through smoke and debris not even noticing pieces of flaming bus falling all around him. He is numb to physical pain but his heart and mind both rend with agony. His life keeps flashing before his eyes – April, his slight of frame, petite April, being lifted as if by a giant unseen hand and flung into the night sky, yeah April is his life. 

His training as a physician must surely have subconsciously kicked in, he cradled little Evie in the crook of his right arm, shielding her from the wreckage all around, while his left arm, which when it happened felt wrenched from its socket, now hung uselessly at his side. His eyes water and he knows it's not entirely fire and smoke related. Barely seconds passed since he witnessed April running towards the exploding bus and his subsequent mad dash to reach her, but as he looked around for her the altered landscape indicates a slow-motioned march to an unbearable eternity without her. 

* * *

Since the deafening sounds of the detonation had receded, hospital personnel start emerging from the Trauma Centre like a colony of ants foraging for food. Jackson handed the little girl over to the first person he spotted – he kept his promise to the mother but now necessity required that he keep his promise to himself. Loving April as he does, not only his happiness but his very survival was contingent upon hers, he had to keep her safe. He was filled with terror as he searched for her. Yes, she was in the vicinity of the bus as it exploded but the propulsion of the blast clearly thrust her away and not towards the inferno. He spun around, eyes peeled, searching, trying to spot the beckoning beacon that was her red hair. 

In a trembling voice he shouts out for her, "April!…April?" followed by a louder roar, "April, NO…NO!" when in the adjoining brush he spots, just as he did with little Evie, a white sneaker resembling the one April was wearing. Only this time the athletic shoe is attached to a foot and almost completely covered by a pair of navy blue scrub pants. 

He rushes to her side but he is not the only one that has been hunting for her and both Matthew and him skid to a halt on either side of her crumpled, unconscious form. His quivering right hand searches for a pulse and he breathes a sigh of relief, it's faint and thready but there. Matthew is in the meantime examining her for injuries and they both note the big slash on her forehead gushing blood, running down the side of her face and onto her neck and chest. She looks like she's been in a war-zone, covered as she is in scrapes and gashes and on her arms there's some very definite shrapnel-like wounds which have shards of bus still embedded into her skin. Added to that her arms and legs have vicious red blotches which could only have been caused by the extreme heat of the fire, but thankfully the burns appear to be only superficial. The most worrying aspect to Jackson though is that she has not regained consciousness yet. 

Still pumped up on adrenaline from not only the explosive incident but also the anxiousness of April's condition, Jackson painfully lifts her into his arms and attempts to carry her to the Emergency Room, but Matthew is having none of it. 

"Look man, let me have her, we'll take her inside and get her checked out by Chief Hunt. You should get yourself seen to as well, that arm doesn't look good," Matthew softly tries to convince him, but Jackson has decided that April will not be leaving his arms ever again. 

"Get out of my way Taylor, I need to have her seen to immediately!" he angrily exclaims. "Page Dr. Shepherd straightaway, he is required in the ER stat!" he yells to a nurse in the immediate vicinity, while trying to shift past Matthew with his precious burden lying ever so still in his arms. "Do you feel like you have to be the big man, Taylor, you feel threatened by me?" he accuses when Matthew stonewalls him, refusing to budge from his path. 

"No, I don't feel threatened by you. I'm trying to save April's life!" hisses Matthew. 

"Great, so am I," acknowledges Jackson. 

"Okay look Avery, I don't have a problem with you man, but she is my responsibility now," utters Matthew coolly and calmly, pointedly glancing at April's right hand where her ring finger unmistakably sports a bauble that was not there previously. 

* * *

Even though his heart stutters in shock, with adrenaline still coursing through his system, Jackson pushes past Matthew and strides swiftly towards the ER, gently easing April down onto the first available gurney he finds. Unable to critically analyze her injuries without breaking down and bawling like a bitch-baby he just gazes down at her, tenderly cupping her cheek with his uninjured right hand. Her wound, he notices, continues to seep and extremely pale as she normally is, now she appears paler still. 

He suddenly hisses in pain as he feels a hand land on his wounded shoulder and he swiftly pivots on the ball of one foot ready to pummel Matthew Taylor into the ground, even if only with one undamaged fist. 

"Check yourself before you wreck yourself, Avery!" scolds Callie, stopping his momentum by catching hold of his fist in the palms of her hands. 

"Sorry, I thought you were…" he starts only to be rudely interrupted by her once again. 

"Let's go…next cubicle….chop, chop. Come on Jackson, I don't have all day here," she focuses her attention on his shoulder and collar bones, which while extremely painful are thankfully not broken. 

Jackson pulls away from her grasp and returns to April's bedside. He gently lifts her hand to his lips and places a soft kiss on her palm, observing that her ring finger on that hand is occupied but choosing to ignore that tit bit until she regains consciousness. 

"I appreciate your concern, Torres," he replies to Callie with his total focus on April. "But I'm not going anywhere – I need someone to check up on April. Where the hell is Shepherd, he needs to do a CAT scan at once!" he gruffly commands. "Why isn't she waking up yet, Torres?" he follows up with a whisper, brokenly, not really expecting a response from her or anyone so he's surprised when someone answers. 

"Meredith's in surgery, she had the baby – a boy, healthy – but she started haemorrhaging. Bailey's operating and for obvious reasons I've pulled Derek and Cristina from working," replies Hunt to his first question – where the hell did he appear from? He instantaneously answers himself when he notices the Paramedic, April's apparent fiancé and his rival for her affections, hovering behind the Chief – so that's where the brown-noser disappeared to, he realizes. 

Owen continues speaking while at the same time examining April, trying to diagnose the severity of her blackout. "What was she thinking running towards a burning bus on the verge of exploding?" he supposes. "And what about you Avery, crazy stunt – but you saved that little girl," he acknowledges. "Go with Torres, let her fix that arm of yours. I am already down two people, electricity is out, the generator is barely functioning, a bus just exploded in front of this hospital, this storm is causing havoc all over Seattle and I'm expecting an over capacity ER. So please just go get checked out, I could really use you," he implores. 

"But Chief, April…I need to…" Jackson begins. 

At the same time Matthew pipes up, "What about my fiancée Chief Hunt?" 

"She's not your fiancée!" exclaims Jackson. 

Simultaneously Matthew interjects, "Why hasn't April woken up yet Dr. Hunt?" Taking a page out of the Plastic Surgeons playbook, Matthew completely ignores him, concentrating solely on his Trauma Surgeon fiancée. 

Owen's brows lift so high that they almost seem to disappear beneath his hairline and like spectators at a tennis match he and Callie glance between the two men as they serve and volley, both participants glaring daggers at each other. 

It appears that a stalemate has been reached; deuce, score tied – April is engaged to one but ran towards an exploding bus, literally, for the other. To the victor go the spoils but the sleeping beauty must first awaken before her champion can lay claim to her.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

It's very easy to see why Dr Owen Hunt is the Chief – he is a natural born leader. In his authoritarian voice he demands attention and having had command over soldiers in his former military career, dealing with obstinate surgeons is child's play. Especially when you consider that a large number of the time these well heeled doctors behave like children. Now was one such a time. Owen stopped the impending fisticuffs by sending each combatant to their respective corners, brooking no refusal of his orders. 

"Dr. Torres take Avery here into the next cubicle and set his shoulder," he instructed Callie. 

"Avery go with Torres and I don't want to hear another word. In fact after Callie's attended to your injuries I want you to rest up while the Trauma Centre is still fairly manageable. Once the situation changes I'll have someone come get you," he commands. 

Turning to the paramedic to give him his own set of instructions, he is prevented from doing so by the strident sound of Matthew's pager going off. 

"Mr Taylor," he addresses Matthew. "I see that you're required elsewhere. We'll see you when we see you then," he dismisses the paramedic. 

Both Matthew and Jackson don't give up easily though and simultaneously they both just questioningly speak her name, "April?" 

"I'm personally taking Dr. Kepner to the Lodox – looks like she'll be the first recipient of the 13 second X-Ray, and we'll plan a course of action from the resulting prognosis," Owen calmly answers both men, knowing that the only way to get results is by giving them the facts straight out. 

Both men reluctantly stir but a game of one-upmanship ensues and they bump heads as they both lean down on either side of April to give her a peck on the cheek – at least Matthew does, Jackson aims straight for her lips. Scowling at them Matthew strides away and Jackson reluctantly follows Callie while Dr. Hunt transports April a few feet away, to the Lodox. 

* * *

Matthew fumes internally at the turn of events – Avery's become a huge pain in his behind, a stumbling block in his plan to woo April, starting with him effing up the most romantic proposal he had planned. April would have loved, he knew, him declaring himself for EVERYONE to see and for her to reciprocate, for EVERYONE to see. He knew it was wrong the way he got the ring onto her finger but all's fair in love and war right? 

She had been so busy in the ER before she ran outside once again, for whatever reason, and he'd just pulled the ring out, grabbed her right hand, which thankfully was not gloved, and taking a page out of Avery's book just straight out gave her no choice in the matter. Exasperatedly she did protest that the timing was inappropriate and was at the point of removing the ring and handing it back to him when patient drama diverted her attention. The expression on her face though…so he knew what he had to do! Desperate times called for desperate measures! Before heading out he made a quick stop at the Pediatric Floor, Stephanie should know that her boyfriend had been seriously injured. 

* * *

"So you and Kepner, hey? Serious cojones Avery, removing her from her own proposal! So who is she with? Why is Matthew all like 'stay away from my woman' and she has a ring. Are the two of you fighting for her?" Callie excitedly springs into action. It's a good thing that her actions are just as swift as her words, she has him bandaged before he can even attempt to formulate an answer. 

Not that he would say anything, his mind is preoccupied with April. He has to know why she hasn't woken up yet. Just as he's about to push past Callie, Hunt enters the cubicle with some answers for him. 

"Scrapes, bruises and minor burns and the one deep cut on her forehead, which is getting stitched up as we speak but thankfully no abnormality on the brain. There's really no reason for her to be unconscious still," explains Hunt in his calm, soothing tone of voice. "Before you go off Avery I had Shepherd look at the films, the worst that it could be is a concussion, she's very lucky. Shepherd thinks that maybe the trauma or what she witnessed is keeping her under and as soon as she's ready to face it she'll wake up," he further clarifies, knowing that Jackson is agonized, as he would be if it was Cristina that was hurt. 

Jackson nods his head at Hunt, acknowledgement for keeping him appraised of the situation but before he can do more than think about going to April's bedside they hear her heartbreaking screams once again. He moves to run to her but is savagely yanked back by Callie, who is attempting to tie a sling over his bandaged shoulder. The best he can manage to do at the moment is calling out to her – Dr. Calliope Torres is one strong woman! Attempting to flee her would undoubtedly put him flat on his arse and embarrassed to boot. 

* * *

"JACKSON… JACKSON… NOOO, NOOO…" April brokenly sobs, twisting and turning on the hospital cot, trying to get away from the hands restraining her. Jackson is dead, her mind screams to her – there was smoke and fire and a shadow just before the huge explosion and she remembers that she had to get to him, she had to protect him, she had to save him for her. Is she so numb with grief that she's hearing his voice, calling out to her that he's here, that he's all right? She pushes the orderly, nurse and Dr. Hunt out of her way as they all three try to stop her when the latter enters the cubicle that she's in – Owen's lips are moving but the words coming out of his mouth are just white noise to her, she has to find Jackson. 

She finds him on her third try and rushes into his cubicle and to hell with it, he thinks, pulling away from Callie, he has to hold her, she's alive, he's alive. April's in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably into his chest, unmindful of his injuries, oblivious of her own. He kisses the top of her head, once, twice murmuring words of comfort, engulfing her with his one good arm, soothing her by running his right hand up and down her back. 

They remain that way for a few moments until April abruptly pushes herself away from him and before he can pull her back into his body she starts pummeling his chest whispering, "You… could have died, you could have died," her motions and her voice escalating in time with each other. 

He tolerates it for a little bit letting her expel her pain and fear before grabbing her pounding fist into his right hand pacifying her once again with his actions and his words, "I'm here April, I'm here," and just as casual as you please he softly sighs, "I love you." 

She hesitates for the barest second before she reciprocates, "I love you." 

He gazes into her eyes and brushes his thumb over her bottom lip and she knows what he's asking for. She lifts her hands to his cheeks ready to pull him down to her lips when her gaze settles on something shiny on his face and realization sets in – it's a ring on her finger and her finger on his face. Attuned as he always is to her little nuances he notices the shift in her gaze and when her glance returns to his, hers questioningly, he shrugs and replies with a smirk, "Don't look at me, I'd get you a rock!" 

Recalling exactly how and who forced the ring onto her, she smacks him on the chest and chastises him by just the utterance of his name, "Jackson!" she scolds but then the ridiculousness of the situation strikes them both at the same time and they burst into laughter as of old, when they were just friends and everything was hilarious. 

But after, he has to ask, "So you said yes to him?" 

"No, no I didn't!" she hastens to reassure him. "He sort of ambushed me, kind of like you've been doing to me the whole day today… and then you were near an exploding bus – don't ever do that to me again by the way, and then I was unconscious and then here I am, so I haven't had the time or the opportunity to return the ring," she explains and rambles on simultaneously. 

"And don't you ever run towards exploding busses…or cars… or planes or… just anything, April! You scared me to death. I never want to go through that ever again!" he vociferously implores. 

In a gesture redolent with solemnity he reverses the age old gesture of joining in holy matrimony, by slowly and gently sliding the ring off her finger. 

Aware of the significance of the gesture April reaches up and clasps his face tenderly between her hands once again, "I want you…Jackson, I want YOU," she reverently utters. "We haven't been fair to each other, we've hurt each other and before that bus exploded, when I thought that you were gone, that I had lost you…" she tremblingly voices, recalling the agony she felt then and even now at just the idea of losing him forever. 

Leaning down he rests his forehead on hers. "I want YOU, April!" he responds and seals his proclamation with the lightest brushing of his lips against the softness of hers but as is always the case with them even the lightest touch sparks an inferno of want and feeling and they attack each other's lips with such vigor that they feel scorched by the heat. 

The curtain to the cubicle is violently thrown open causing them to spring apart and bringing to Jackson's attention that for all her nosiness Callie is really the most thoughtful person – she left the cubicle the moment April entered it and even pulled the curtain closed affording them a modicum of privacy in the midst of the bustling ER. But not so Chief Hunt, who very rudely interrupted them. 

"Dr. Kepner, you need to be in recovery and with the concussion you sustained you're going to need to be monitored at least every hour to see that there's no lasting damage," Hunt dictates. 

"But Chief…" begins April, ready to defend her excellent prognosis when she's cut off and by Jackson of all people. 

"I'll see to it Hunt, I'll keep a close eye on her," he seriously acknowledges, ready for the task. 

"But Jackson, what about your hand? You need to be monitored too!"exclaims April about to get into it with Chief Hunt for not ordering that Jackson be put onto bed-rest too. 

"Avery, I thought I gave you orders to rest it up. Get April to her cot, assign someone to wake her every hour to confirm that there's no lasting damage from the concussion and you get some sleep too," orders Hunt. 

"Will do Chief," responds Jackson to Hunt before he leaves, very kindly closing the curtain behind him – the Chief is no fool. 

Used to lifting her with one arm and overriding her protests, Jackson does just that – he carries April over to the bed in the cubicle he's been residing in and gently deposits her there and knowing her as he does he stops the protests forming on her lips by keeping them occupied. Bemused, she watches as he rounds the bed and gets in on the other side so that she's facing his uninjured shoulder. It's a hospital bed so it's a tight squeeze but the necessary closeness is one of the reasons that they both love the intimacy of it all. 

They've never really slept together, literally slept together, so this is a momentous occasion for both of them, almost as much as them both admitting their feelings for each other. Jackson sets the alarm on his watch then reaches out and pulls April onto his uninjured right shoulder, whispering a soft good night and promising to wake her in an hour's time. He kisses her softly on the lips and tucks her in, she's exactly where he's wanted her all along, in his arms. 

* * *

Stephanie rushes down from the Newborn Infant Unit on the Pediatric floor to the Emergency Room, looking for Jackson. She finally gets an answer from an on-call nurse and approaches a curtained-off cubicle in the ER. Feeling a lump in her throat she pushes through the curtain and gazes upon the slumbering couple folded into each other's arms….


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Wow, you look…" 

"No, don't say I look…" 

"…like a train-wreck!" he joked. "But I can see where it's going." 

Four times he'd woken her up with a gentle kiss followed by a severe grilling and one time she woke him up with a much more passionate kiss than either of their injuries allowed for. The same conversation four times in the last five hours, no deviation from the script, well except for the endearments, he was pretty creative with those and also the number of fingers he held up to test if she was experiencing blurred or double vision. After they had been asleep for one hour she was roused by a tender kiss and a litany of questions. 

"April, wake up sweetheart. Are you up? How's your head? Do you know where you are, what happened? Any nausea? Dizziness? Do you feel drowsy? How many fingers am I holding up?" he questioned. 

"Pounding. At the Hospital…bus explosion. Yes. Don't know still asleep. Still asleep. Two," she countered, peeking out at him from between her fingers at the last question. The time after that he held up three fingers, but in a strange configuration, followed thereafter by two and then three once more but in odd combinations yet again. He really was adorable trying to fake her out. 

Four times she had been gently awakened, questioned and immediately lulled back to sleep but the fifth time she stirred before his alarm could beep. Her head was so much better, she realized, just a dull throbbing, no longer a pulsating jackhammer. 

She turned her head slightly gazing at him whilst he slept – the magnetic pull to him was as always ever present but slightly muted without the intensity of his electrifying gaze. Staring at him you realize that he is all strength, all male, especially with the facial scruff he sported but in that moment of repose his vulnerability was apparent. Almost losing her had jarred him about as much as thinking that she had lost him had shaken her, and that fear had sparked neurons to create pathways that led straight to their emotions. Neither was afraid to declare themselves anymore – they loved and were loved in return. 

As she lay there sharing that single pillow with him she recalled the hand gestures he had been using earlier and her unfogged mind clearing she smiled introspectively to herself, gave the softest sigh and leaned towards him, intent on rousing him and reassuring herself that their togetherness was not a dream. 

The kiss started off as a soft peck on his lips but escalated swiftly into a passionate duel of lips, tongues and teeth. She pulled back for a moment wondering if perhaps he was unaware of whom he was kissing, a tiny ache in her heart at the thought of him being with another woman and being woken up in this delicious manner. But he soon disabused her of this notion. 

"Mmhmm April, don't stop," he murmured and smiling down at him she very enthusiastically got back to the job at hand. Stopping this time was simply a matter of the necessity for breath, which Jackson didn't seem to need much of as he continued kissing down her neck while she attempted a similar conversation to the ones he had begun four times previously. 

"How's your hand…and your head? Are you in pain, any side effects? How many fingers am I holding up?" she jokingly paraphrased his earlier asks. She held up her right hand with three prominent fingers extended – thumb, index and little finger and with her middle and ring fingers folded in. Jackson snorted out a laugh, realizing that she was totally fine and that she had caught on to his earlier teasing. He copied her gesture and they both grinned goofily, fools in love, he thought. 

"Do you remember when I taught you this?" she softly enquired, signing three words with her right hand, the first being index and middle finger extended flowing seamlessly into the second gesture which both of them had just used and finally the third sign of only the index and little finger extended. 

"Of course babe, when Alex's African babies came here for treatment and you learnt Swahili and sign language to communicate with the kids," he grinningly responded. 

"And all you learnt was 'Peace', 'Love' and 'Rock on'. That's what you were signing earlier, right? Although I haven't seen you use 'Love' on its own before today, and you signed it twice," she coyly jabbered, earning her an adoring grin in response. 

"That's because I love you twice more than Rock and Roll and World Peace," he lightheartedly rejoined, spelling out the 'I love you', slowly this time. Little finger for an 'I', then index and thumb forming the letter 'L' and finally little finger and thumb forming a 'U'. 

He was so grateful, not only for having her alive and well and in his life, but also thankful for the recovery of their friendship. They hadn't been this comfortable with each other since their split and he mentally vowed to himself to never knowingly lose their camaraderie ever again. So in that vein he joked about her looking like a train-wreck, watching as she exasperatedly shook her head at him before chuckling delightfully. "See even train tracks," he added gently running his right thumb over the stitches on her forehead before leaning over and tenderly caressing over each thread with soft lips. 

Used as he was to her segue from one topic to the next – they more often than not had a commonality –he was still utterly surprised by her next question. 

"Why were you kissing Stephanie outside the ER?" 

* * *

Stephanie paced up and down the deserted corridor, wringing her hands. Jo was busy so she had no one to reassure her, not that Jo would, seeing that she called her out on all her crap during their last conversation, but she desperately needed someone to talk to. 

Her brain was functioning at super speed and she was at her wits end trying to figure out a solution. She needed to rescue the situation, return it to the status quo, to before Hurricane Kepner, to when she still had a foothold into the Avery dynasty. She actually admired her own restraint when she saw them asleep earlier when all she wanted to do was confirm that Kepner was a natural redhead… by pulling out each and every strand on her head…from the root and by hand. But even in her rage she knew that confronting them would just end up with her being the loser. She had to play this smart not hard. 

She was human though and although she started out with a hidden agenda she had developed feelings for Jackson and a part of her felt hurt and betrayed. Perhaps she was wrong she consoled herself. Maybe it was just comfort between Jackson and April and of course fear of losing a best friend. She vacillated between these opposing thoughts, wondering if she was possibly deluding herself and so decided to take a peek into that ER cubicle once more. 

Knowledge is power, she reasoned and armed with actual data instead of speculation was always the best option. She gently parted the curtain this time instead of violently pulling it aside as she had done previously but the outcome was the same – the occupants were oblivious to her presence. The difference however was that this time they were definitely awake and in a torrid embrace – he'd never kissed HER with that degree of emotion and passion. For the second time she stealthily walked away but witnessing their intimacy somehow reaffirmed her resolve, she was going to have to bring forth all the ammunition in her arsenal, she was going to pull this out of the fire. 

* * *

"She actually kissed me. I've been trying to break up with her today and outside the ER she caught me unawares, but I definitely did not return the kiss. I meant what I said to you April," Jackson cautiously explained. 

"Why haven't you broken up with her then?" April warily inquired of him. 

"I know this may sound bad, but after what I found out about her and indirectly me and you, I just put her out of my mind and instead concentrated on us, between saving lives of course," he clarified. 

"About us?" she asks, confused. 

"Kind of," Jackson replies. 

"What happened?" April poses the question. 

"I'll tell you about it as soon as you tell me you're okay," Jackson whispers leaning in once again and peppering her lips with butterfly kisses. 

"Totally fine," she chimes, almost breathless but coherent. 

"I've actually been wanting to tell you since I overheard them talking and not because it's about us but because I've always counted on you to give it to me straight. I've missed you and I've missed us and how we were before I ruined it," he states quite matter of fact. 

"We both were at fault Jackson," she softly but quite forcefully insists. No shrinking violet here, she adorably gives him her most serious look and demands "Spill it!" and he does. 

Not only does he tell her everything he overheard but he confirms that Jo's theory about his reason for being with Stephanie was quite valid, except there's two other reasons too which he shares with her. 

"I was hurt and feeling rejected so I guess being with her was thumbing my nose at you. Mature huh?" he disparages himself, and gazing deep into her eyes he spots a flicker, knowing that deep down his words have wounded her and he deeply regrets his actions. "In my more lucid moments I realized too that while you felt guilty for betraying your vows to remain celibate, I was guilty of something much worse – I treated you as a sex object and never as a girlfriend or lover. So I decided to become a better man and I tried to show her the respect that I wish that I had shown to you!" He remains quiet for seconds after these revelations, afraid to see the pain and disappointment in her eyes but April surprises him yet again. She snuggles closer to him and busses kisses all over his face. 

"That was actually very grown-up Jackson, very anti-Alex behavior, I'm actually quite proud of you and maybe just a little disappointed that it was with her and not me," she remarks but continues along his similar line of thought. "We've hurt each other so much, Jackson, but we've been given a second chance. Either of us…both of us…could have died tonight and I don't want to have to live without you or die having left things unfinished between us. So let's make a pact right this second, we'll always be honest with each other, always communicate and as of now forgive and move on, okay?" she thoughtfully supplicates to him. 

Jackson nods his acquiescence before kissing her once again – she continually amazes him with the enormous capacity of her heart and he is just so thankful to be on the receiving end of that spectrum. 

He settles her more comfortably in his arms and just starts talking, about everything that he has wanted to share with her since their alienation from each other and as he expects she listens intently and provides the no-nonsense honest feedback that is her trademark and that he has been missing all these months. 

He is fearlessly vulnerable to her – he acknowledges his apprehensions and inadequacies in his new role on the hospital board and his dissatisfaction with the minimal amount of time he has to be a surgeon. He abhors having to be 'Hall Monitor' to the qualified group of world renowned surgeons who behave like children the majority of the time but when she tells him that he is holding the hospital together he feels like a Titan and all is right in his world. 

He laughs quietly to himself and when April asks the reason for his mirth he responds by explaining that her verbal diarrhea is catching as he cannot seem to stop talking. She smiles a Madonna-like smile with her prominent dimples flashing, agreeing that they have loads to catch up on. They become so immersed in each other that for that infinitesimal amount of time they are the only two people present in an oasis surrounded by white noise. 

Reality intrudes. April had just arisen from the hospital cot with the idea of going to the attending lounge and utilizing the attached shower there, when the curtain to the cubicle was pulled open by Dr. Hunt. 

"Sorry to interrupt you two, how are you feeling Dr. Kepner? Avery? Both good?" he enquired, mechanically, and barely waited for their affirmative responses before he jumped to the reason for his interruption. "I know that you both should be home resting but I'm going to ask if I can count on your assistance. We have a bunch of trauma's coming in, some diverted from Seattle Pres. The storm has apparently caused mud slides all over and aside from civilian casualties we have firefighters and cops also hurt during the evacuations. I wouldn't ask but I really need you both," he apologetically requested. 

"No problem, Chief," April responds. 

"Of course, Hunt," Jackson replies simultaneously. 

"I appreciate it you two. The ambulances are still a way out – trying to get to hospitals during the storm has been challenging, so you have about 15-20 minutes to get cleaned up and grab a bite, it's going to be another long shift," Owen allows before turning to go, leaving them alone in the cubicle once again. 

"Jackson, I know now's not the time but we have to discuss this," April begins as soon as they're returned to their privacy. 

"What is it babe?" Jackson asks, immediately attentive. 

"We have to keep this…us…a secret," she gesticulates between the two of them, "at least until after you break-up with Stephanie and I return Matthew's ring," she further clarifies. 

"Wait, what? No!" he retorts, ready to defend his arguments for their being together but April interrupts him with her softly voiced statement. 

"Matthew doesn't deserve this and neither does Stephanie," she insists. "And how do we explain to others that we destroyed two perfectly lovely people so that we could…what, date?" 

"Okay, best solution is never to speak to any of them ever again," he jestingly voices. 

Gazing incredulously at him, April scrunches her nose and retorts, "Or…?" 

"Or…I break-up with them," Jackson rejoins, this time in all seriousness. 

"Wait, what? Jackson give me back the ring and I'll return it to Matthew and you take care of the messy intern…errh the intern mess, the Stephanie situation – breaking-up with Stephanie, you know what I mean," she exasperatedly reacts. 

"I'll take care of both, the intern and the paramedic. What he did, forcing the ring on you wasn't right but I also wasn't fair to the guy, I kinda ruined his proposal and I'll apologize to him for that," he assures her. "I promise not to punch his lights out, okay?" he adds, both of them recalling the time he lit into Alex for hurting her, a pummeling so bad that he had to replace Owen and Cristina's brand new coffee table. 

He pulls her closer ready to use his own brand of charm to get her to acquiesce because even though she's aware of his 'Avery Sparkle' (a term coined by the late Mark Sloan) she is immune to his this form of manipulation but not to his sincere and very real attraction to her, which he shows her by his all-encompassing, all-consuming kisses. Knowing that they cannot and will not be together until their respective liaisons are terminated, she takes her time in allowing him to convince her and a full five of their allotted twenty minutes is spent in the oblivion of each others arms. 

* * *

Stephanie unexpectedly bumps into them at the Trauma Bay, the venue of her humiliation as she sees it and even though Jackson's attention seems to be on Kepner they aren't standing together. Bolstered by this apparent estrangement she approaches Jackson with the idea of creating friction between them and hopefully the emergence of the green-eyed monster that is Dr. April Kepner. 

Noting the lengths that Jackson has been willing to go to for April, Stephanie knows that the only strategy available to her is for April to reject Jackson, any other way will not have him back down, and the only way that April will reject Jackson is if he seems to want to be with someone else. Well the theory was foolproof once, she reckons and she really has to get Matthew to fire up the guilt – if nothing else April was predictably soft-hearted and Stephanie was not above using that to her advantage. 

"Hey, what happened to you? You've been hurt!" Stephanie exclaims with sham surprise, trying to reach up to clasp Jackson's face, to bring his lips within kissing distance. 

He turns his face to the side, deliberately away. "Stephanie, we need to talk," he acknowledges to her but Stephanie is given a reprieve by the first of the ambulances pulling into the bay. "Later," he tacks on. 

"All right, let's do it!" he announces to all doctors and nurses assembled out there ready to assist the trauma casualties. "Help me get this sling off," he requests of none other than Dr. Kepner and whilst to others it appears that all she is doing is assisting him, Stephanie notices the affectionate exasperation on April's face and if you were observing closely the audacious wink to her from Jackson. So she's down, Stephanie thinks to herself but they shouldn't discount her, she's far from out. 

* * *

She knows that they were on separate cases but the next time she sees them they are once again together, Kepner behind the counter of the nurse's station and Jackson in front of it updating a patient chart, the both of them discussing Dr Webber's critical condition after being electrocuted. She overhears Jackson discussing with April how the news has affected his mother and watches as he reaches for her hand, which she unhesitatingly clasps, entwining their fingers. 

Both are unmindful of the two people watching them, she from the front, just behind Jackson and Matthew quite a distance behind April. Matthew is evidently still in the dark about the pair and from his vantage point it looks like a casual conversation between two colleagues, he clearly is unable to observe their expressions, their gazing into each other's eyes and the tight grip that they have on each others hands. 

Jackson asks April to assist with his firefighter patient as the interns have been removed from service due to Heather's death – freakishly as a result of her hitting her head when she got electrocuted, same as Dr Webber. While Kepner commiserates with him over the loss – she really is too soft-hearted to be a surgeon – Stephanie scoffs to herself and spotting her opportunity moves in for the kill. 

Although she and Heather Brooks were never really close, Stephanie is quite prepared to embellish their friendship to the extent of garnering sympathy from the man in front of her and in so doing creating a chasm between him and the redhead. She moves in on them, bringing on the water-works (thank God Jo taught her how to fake cry) and diving into Jackson's arms, calling out his name in a tortured-sounding sob. 

She noticed out of the corner of her eye that April was the one to pull away from Jackson before she pounced and she notices too that Jackson doesn't pull her into a comforting embrace. He actually starts to push her away, calling her name out warningly but amazingly, to Stephanie at least, April's chastising calling of his name stops him. It is in that moment that Stephanie truly comprehends that she has lost, that she was in fact never in the running to begin with. Two things however keep her from making it easy for them, pure vindictiveness and no small measure of self-delusion. 

April notices that Jackson is uncomfortable and just wants to blurt out everything to Stephanie, his very nature abhors subterfuge and he is quick to call out dishonesty, deception and injustice. He is the most noble of men and his integrity, personal and professional, has always drawn her to him, especially when they were just friends. She has always been able to rely on his total honesty with her, it's also why their break-up hurt her so much – he had to have seen characteristics in her that did not please him, she thought and although he admitted to her that fear of being hurt again is what held him back, a small part of her was plagued with uncertainty – was it audacious of her to think that she deserved to have such a resplendent specimen of character and honor enthralled with insecure, 'no-filter' her? April turns to walk away from a weeping Stephanie being consoled by a clearly uncomfortable Jackson but catching his eye she aligns her fingers to sign 'Love' which he smilingly reciprocates. 

Jackson watches her walk away, there was something in her eyes…As much as she knows him, he knows her too. He gently pushes Stephanie away from him, glances down at her and murmurs, "I'm sorry." 

He moves away ready to go after April, remembering the promise he made to himself to never hurt her again and just before he reaches the double doors leading out of the wing, he turns halfway around and calls out to Stephanie, "By the way I heard you and Jo talking earlier and while I'm sorry if you think I gave you false hope about us, that was never going to happen. And I never want to hear you malign the woman I love ever again. Got it?" he finishes and not even waiting for acknowledgement from a shocked Stephanie he dashes away to find his April. 

* * *

He spots her halfway up the foyer steps. With the storm still going strong it's a busy day at Grey Sloan Memorial and the foyer and adjacent waiting area are filled to capacity but Jackson barely pauses in his headlong dash to get to her and from the foot of the staircase he loudly calls out her name hearing the echo rebound. She turns around, surprised. He has to let her and the world know how he feels about her… 

"I love you, April, I always have. I love everything about you, even the things I don't like…I love. And I want you with me. I love you and I think that you love me too. Do you?" 

Once the initial shock has worn off – she never really pictured Jackson as being the type for huge declarations – she darts down the remainder of the stairs and straight into his arms, where he lifts her up and twirls her around, his injury forgotten by her and the twinges therefrom not even hindering him in his movements. 

She whispers a soft "Yes" and he kisses her passionately, to thunderous applause. Blushing, she leans her forehead against his, muttering, "Not very becoming of an Avery!" to which he just snorts out a laugh. Out of the corner of her eye April notices some movement towards them and leaping out of Jackson's arms she informs him of the presence, "Your Mother, it's your mother!" she chimes. 

Catherine Avery reaches them just as Jackson puts his arms around April pulling her forward. 

"So I understand congratulations are in order…"


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Catherine Avery, complex, intuitive woman – strong, black single mother, matriarch of the Avery Dynasty who keeps her finger firmly on the pulse of all things Avery and most especially the Avery heir. She gazes at the couple in front of her, her observant eye immediately detecting the protective nature of his embrace and the very public display of affection. 

PDA's have never been Jackson's modus operandi – he in fact tended to shy away from any demonstrative exhibitions, was neither an imposer nor, walled up as he was, an allowing recipient. His ease both towards April and the glaring reality of her presence provides Catherine with an inkling of the true value Jackson places on her in his life and not to mention, the grand declaration that she, and what seemed like half of Seattle, had just been privy to. 

Kept abreast by Owen Hunt, Catherine was fully aware of the bus explosion and the resultant chaos that ensued. This was followed not long after by a worrying phone-call from Jackson, calmingly trying to explain the prognosis of Richard Webber, former chief and her intimate companion, after he had been electrocuted. Either incident on its own merit would have necessitated her immediate presence but both occurring within the space of a few hours of each other incited instantaneous action, resulting in her having The Foundation Jet fired up for the swiftest excursion from Boston to Seattle. 

* * *

Jackson had the foresight to direct the three of them, himself included, to an empty conference room where he informed her that Richard was at that very moment undergoing surgery and while Catherine's dominant personality, and heart, insisted that she be there, her cool head overrode that sentiment – she would burn that bridge when she got to it. 

Both her son and his lady love sported injuries so transparent that even someone without her trained eye or mother's intuition would have detected them. So she reached out to both, Jackson first. She clasped his face and with an expressive moue on her own she quickly examined him for obvious injuries. As expected he pulled away from her, murmuring that he was fine. She turned to April and clasping her chin in her hand noticed immediately the line of stitches on her right brow and surprisingly, to Catherine at least, April leaned into her hand, seeming to need that mother's reassuring touch. 

"April sweetheart, I'm glad that you're okay and while I can see that you don't need the gynecological fellow we spoke of when I was here last, you still look way too uptight baby. Still not getting L-A-I-D, or has Jackson been too busy with interns to take care of you," she unrepentantly inquired. 

"Dr. Avery!" 

"Mom!" 

"What, babies?" she responds to their chastisements, unapologetic. 

"I thought you stopped face-booking my mom," whispered Jackson from the corner of his mouth to April, who still sputtered at Catherine's audaciousness – it was obviously an Avery trait, although much more toned down in Jackson. His actions and behavior today though, put him on a level with his mother – a comparison she was sure that would definitely irk him. 

"You told me to un-friend her, I DID!" counters April in a hushed undertone. 

"She's toxic, she's a meddler, my mom has no boundaries – be warned." 

Having previously encountered meddlesome, boundary-less Catherine Avery, her statements are not what shock April, her tacit approval of April while at the same time disapproval of Jackson's seemingly wishy-washy behavior is what boggles her mind. But wait, does that not imply that she has no faith in Jackson's judgement and by extension his choice of her? As usual, the conundrum that is Catherine Avery strikes again, leaving a trail of confusion in her wake. 

"Oh don't blame her. I may not be Dr. Miranda Bailey but I DO know everything, everything that goes on in an Avery Hospital," grumbled Catherine, proving once again that her auditory capabilities were well above par. 

"Okay mom…the thing with Stephanie…it's between April and me…I don't need to explain anything to you…" rambles Jackson, looking down at the floor whilst rubbing the back of his neck. It seemed that this one bad decision, which situation he had been tolerating so as to never be the indecisive douche-bag, was going to be biting him in the arse for a long time to come. 

"What were you thinking, Jackson? You are aware that you're on the board of this hospital, as well as an Avery! And what of your friendship with April, does she deserve this type of transient behavior from you?" Catherine questioned. She knows "insensitive jerk" is not who she raised her son to be and she actually admires the man he has become – she is proud that he had the stones to stand up and ask for true love. Being Catherine Avery, however, meant that she would never tell him that and although Jackson was now a grown-ass man who would smell the reverse psychology she regularly pulled on him when he was younger, old tried and trusted methods were hard to break. She also figured that the only way he would totally appreciate this relationship was if he had to defend it and counteract her seeming disapproval – two birds, one stone. 

"This relationship is not new, mom, the decision to be together is not rash, you only feel that way because you didn't get to weigh in on it," Jackson fumed. 

"Because you didn't include me in it, like everything else in your life," snaped Catherine. 

"I don't need to include you…you include yourself in everything, always," he retorts, vibrating with resentment. 

"Stop it, stop it!" exclaims April. 

"April sweetheart don't…" starts Catherine, only to be overridden by the diminutive red-head. 

"You're right. There are a lot of things we still haven't figured out, but we WILL figure them out, Jackson and I. We love each other and I'm sorry that our relationship came as such a shock. I was shocked – I can't imagine what you must be feeling. Actually I can…I can imagine it because I…" 

"You know what babe, don't, you don't have to apologize to her," interrupts Jackson. 

"I do! WE do, Jackson. We hurt each other and in coming to terms with our feelings we hurt others and keeping the knowledge of us from your mother has hurt her too," she responds to him and turning to face Catherine she addresses her, "I am so sorry…I promise I'm going to make it up to you." 

Facing Jackson once again she entreats him, "Apologize to your mom…go on, please." 

Jackson, concurring with the logic of her argument and with no small amount of self-irony comprehends that he is entirely whipped by the petite woman he loves. He walks over to stand in front of Catherine ready for this act of contrition. 

She swats him on the right shoulder, noticing his wince of pain, "What the hell were you thinking?" she poses, referencing his declaration of not even half an hour before. 

"I love her, Mom…and I am sorry…but I love her. She's the one," he unhesitatingly declares. 

Catherine is more than delighted. Two birds, one stone – well more like three birds, because now she has April obligated to her too. 

* * *

Beneath the tumultuous eye of Hurricane Catherine 'The Nazi' became little itty-bitty Dr. Bailey. Miranda was outsmarted and out-gunned, no match for the fury of Catherine Avery on the warpath. 

Discovering that Bailey had forged ahead with the surgery while Richard's stats indicated an extremely high degree of cardiac compromise raised Catherine's ire by no small degree. She stormed up to the observation room overlooking OR 1 and via intercom ordered both Hunt and Bailey to immediately cease and desist the surgery. Strong as Richard was, the trauma he suffered caused his heart to experience cardiogenic shock and Bailey's certainty and resultant search for the presence of internal necrosis caused by the electrocution, was jeopardizing his life. 

Catherine was not above terrorizing the Grey Sloan Doctors to accept her edict. Being an Urologist did not preclude her being less knowledgeable about other organs in the body, why the family she had married into was freaking Cardiac Royalty. The respect she demanded, however, was based solely on her knowledge and proficiency and especially in medical situations, rarely dependent on the Avery name. 

* * *

Concurrently, in another part of the hospital, more bad news was being imparted by another Avery. Knowing April's strict adherence to absolute professionalism in the workplace, Jackson had been meticulous in maintaining a polite discourse throughout the surgery of their patient with Necrotizing Fasciitis, a severe case of flesh-eating bacteria, and to his credit the majority of his attention was centered on Sasha, their firefighter patient. Recalling the tanker explosion of just weeks prior, when the death of her patient had affected April so heartbreakingly, Jackson regretted pulling her into this case, knowing the outcome would be no different. Small consolation though was that they would impart the news to the firefighter couple together. 

"So we were able to remove all of the necrotic tissue but the labs suggest that your organs are beginning to fail," Jackson started, directing the words to Sasha with the underlying message to Brian, her fiancé. 

"Is there anything that you can do?" questioned Brian immediately. 

"Well we're giving you some powerful antibiotics and we're hoping that that stops the process, but…" interjected April, answering Brian's question but directing her response to Sasha. Her heart ached for the couple. 

"But I might not make it…" countered Sasha, sighing in resignation, having her worst fears confirmed. 

"We are going to do everything that we possibly can," Jackson re-iterated, but even with the subtle doctor-speak the message was clear, Sasha was slowly running out of time. 

"Brian…" Sasha prompted him, motioning towards the surgeons. 

"We want to get married now, right now! No matter what happens we want to be married. We need a Chaplain," Brian implored the unsuspecting doctors, surprising them with his request. The firefighters had obviously discussed this worst case scenario and their only alternative was to be together till the end, in a true union of love. 

* * *

"Come on, what about Hassan? He's out at the pile too; you realize they all can't be out at the pile. No, I don't care what religion they are, just give me something, anybody that can officiate this. Yeah, as a member of the board I'm gonna say you want to stay away from phrases like 'even a Catholic'. Yeah alright, just call me back." Unhappy with the lack of results, Jackson ends his telephone conversation when he notices Catherine's swift strides carrying her towards him. 

"How is Richard?" he inquires. 

"Hanging on by a thread. Thank you very much!" Her tone clearly indicates the opposite of gratefulness. 

"You going to scream at me too now? Heard you already had a go at Hunt and Bailey," Jackson chastises. 

"I just want to know what in God's name was going on through your head…" She is all Catherine Avery in that moment – using a canon to kill a mosquito, over the top but effective! 

"Stop!" Jackson disrupts her impassioned rebuke. "You are terrified, I get that…you love him and you are scared as you have ever been. Marching through this hospital telling everybody that they are incompetent is not going to fix that situation. We are all doing our best and we are going to take good care of him…and we are going to take good care of you, okay?" he tries to reassure her but at the same time standing his ground. Grey Sloan Hospital is not only HIS Hospital it's also a first-rate facility and where he has made his home, although, to be fair Home is wherever April is, he would follow her anywhere. 

"As soon as he's stable," continues Catherine, "as soon as the storm passes…I'm going to move him to another hospital." Nodding her head and barely acknowledging the exasperation on Jackson's face, she continues on in her quest to obtain the best possible care, temporary though that may be, for Richard, while simultaneously intimidating the hospital staff – two birds, one stone. 

* * *

On his way to Meredith's room to give her a heads-up on the metaphorical scalping his mother was inflicting, Jackson comes upon the unlikely duo of exes, his and April's. Admittedly Matthew is unaware that he is an ex, but Jackson plans to remedy his misconception immediately by retiring his bauble of metal back to him. Reaching into his coat pocket he removes the ring he appropriated earlier from April's finger and approaches the Paramedic. 

"Taylor, wait up, I have something for you," Jackson ambles up to Matthew, holding out the engagement ring to return. 

"Avery, you shouldn't have and I'm sorry to break it to you but I'm already spoken for," Matthew smirks, clapping a hand onto Jackson's injured shoulder in a show of deceptive camaraderie. 

"Very funny, man. I promised April that I would return this to you and apologize from both of us about how this went down. April's made her choice," Jackson calmly and stoically explains, inwardly wincing at the pain radiating from his shoulder but unwilling to give Matthew the satisfaction of a reaction. It's a pissing contest Matthew's after he realizes and Jackson is ready to stake his claim. 

"Well now Avery, you see I don't believe you…April wants this – marriage, family, us. Let me put it in terms you'll understand, I liked it so I put a ring on it. I should put a dent in that pretty face of yours, Avery, your selfish, dog in the manger attitude ruined the perfect proposal. But I get it, good looking guy, practically own the hospital, who wouldn't be flattered. I am, nonetheless, not going to back down. You've got a fight on your hands, Avery." 

"You really don't know her at all if you think money and looks drive her, she's not Stephanie, and you're massively delusional if you think that was the perfect way to propose to her, giving her no choice and in front of a mob," Jackson responds to Matthew's assertions, shaking his head in incredulity. 

Stephanie, who had been quietly observing the standoff, snorts out a breath and retreats in a huff, how did she land up as the ammunition in this shootout? Monitoring the two foes it becomes apparent to her that Matthew has brought a knife to a gunfight. 

Matthew experiences a moment of doubt at hearing the conviction in Jackson's voice and betrays his misgivings by the slightest flicker of his eyelids. He disguises it with calculated arrogance. 

"Whatever, Avery. At least she knows I want her and only her and that I'm willing to put myself out there for her." He takes the potshot and cockily saunters off, his demeanor reflecting no weakness. Jackson is left digesting Matthew's parting shot. Matthew figuratively flexed his muscles then literally swaggered off, leaving Jackson in his wake with mouth agape and hand outstretched with a ring on it. 

* * *

Finally entering Meredith's room, Jackson discovers April there. 

"There are no Chaplains anywhere in the building, everyone is out dealing with storm victims," April answers, responding to his raised eyebrow. 

"We have storm victims right here. What...? Chaplains are supposed to stay here!" he retorts. 

"I…." 

"Anybody seen my patient Brian? Firefighter…busted ribs…?"Alex appears in the doorway, questioning the occupants of the room. 

"Yeah, he's getting married," April positively re-affirms. 

"Not without a Chaplain he's not…" this from Jackson. 

"Well, I could go online and get certified by that place on the internet…but me and weddings today…I don't think I'm the best choice!" April laughingly rejoins, casting a sideway glance at Jackson. 

He bravely accepts the gauntlet she's just flung at him and retorts with his favorite slogan, "I'll just do it!" he quotes Nike, an accompaniment to the wink he gives her. 

* * *

"Brian, Sasha, your commitment to each other is an inspiration. Your love, your devotion, it's unwavering. You aren't swayed by anything that life puts in your path. When people talk about marriage this is exactly what they ought to have in mind." 

Internet certified, Jackson begins the ceremony. Occupying the room are the couple he is in the process of marrying and the exquisitely fascinating creature that has entranced him. As co-officiator April has 'dressed' for the occasion by styling an intricate braid as a crown on her forehead with tendrils on the side, ostensibly to cover the stitches on her forehead. Gazing deeply into her dazzling eyes, Jackson utters those heartfelt sentiments to both Brian and Sasha and for April and himself too. 

Preoccupied as Brian and Sasha are with each other, they notice that Jackson's attention is consumed by the red-haired surgeon and when, with brightly blushing cheeks, April swats him on his chest to get his attention focused, the couple just laugh. Bittersweet though their ceremony is they cannot help but feel joy at witnessing the loving ease that the surgeon couple have for each other, it speaks to the depth of their emotions as well as the comfort of their friendship. They are inspiring, the epitome of love. 

On the verge of continuing the ceremony, the foursome are interrupted by the appearance of Hassan, back from the trenches and ready to officiate. Jackson gladly hands over the reins and both he and April step out of the limelight, now merely witnesses to the union presided by Hassan. 

Moved by emotion Jackson wraps April into his arms, not surprised when she leans contentedly into him her back against his chest and her head resting comfortably into the crook of his shoulder. Professionalism be damned, she's always been sentimental at weddings. 

"That's what it's supposed to look like, you know. They can't even imagine not being together," he whispers in her ear, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks. 

"Yeah," she acknowledges her voice slightly gruff with feeling. Turning her head to the side, resting it more securely against his shoulder she reaches up to him cupping his cheek in her right hand, loving the stubble. Gazing lovingly into her bright, tear-drenched eyes, he leans down and kisses her. 

"Marry me, April?" he proposes, striking her dumb with his words. Smiling at her shock he softly remarks "Who knew it would be this easy to get you to shut-up!" 

Snapping her jaws shut, she sniggers at his joke and lightly smacks him on the chest. "Oh you!" she exclaims ignoring his earlier ask and treating the whole thing as a gag. 

"I mean it, you know…because you're right about everything. I don't want to just date April, I want the whole damn thing!" he explains, pulling a ring out of his jacket pocket. 

"Jackson!" she exclaims in a whisper, subconsciously aware of the ceremony she doesn't want to disrupt, but too immersed in their own drama to stop. "That's Matthew's ring!" she hisses at him. 

"Oh sorry, wrong pocket," he laughs, removing a different spectacular diamond-studded band from his other pocket. 

"What…how…when…?" she stutters, not sure which question to address first. Why does he still have Matthew's ring? When did he decide to propose? How did he get that ring? WHEN did he get that ring? 

"Do you want to get into that right now?" he asks. 

"No…" she mumbles, much more invested in his question then his answers. 

"No, you don't want to get into that or no, you don't want to get married?" he smilingly supposes. 

"Yes…YES!" she rejoices, turning fully around and launching herself into his arms. 

"Thank God!" he mumbles, between kisses. 

"Interesting relationship you got going on with God, for an Atheist," she remarks, also between kisses, forgetting where they are for the moment. 

Hassan loudly clears his throat to get their attention – he's surrounded by kissing couples, one of which he has just married. "So, am I marrying you two or not?" he inquires. 

"YES!" 

* * *

"Mer, you're not going to believe what I just witnessed!" Cristina barges into Meredith's hospital room, unmindful of the interns and the council that Meredith is imparting to them. "Pretty Boy and Virgin Mary just got hitched!" 

"What?" yells Meredith. 

"Yeah, Avery and Kepner just got married," she smirks, openly laughing as Intern Stephanie runs out of the room sobbing. 

"Cristina…" chastises Meredith. 

"What? Now how was I supposed to pretend that what just happened wasn't the coolest thing I'd ever seen," Cristina mocks. 

"Cristina…" 

"No, I've always been on the fence about Kepner but now I'm not just a friend, I'm a fan!" 

* * *

Stephanie cannot believe that after everything he put her through these past two days, he still managed to humiliate her above and beyond that, a final nail in the coffin as it were – he actually married the bitch! Intent on wallowing in self-pity she still somehow manages to observe two things: from her right Matthew approaching the nurse's station that she's seated at, and on her left she spies the happy couple slipping into an on-call room. Well misery loves company she consoles herself and directs Matthew onto her same path to Heartbreakville. 

"Jackson…I don't want to spend my wedding night making love in an on-call room," April admonishes her husband, in between kisses. 

"Babe, we agreed to stay at the hospital tonight for Sasha, right? So, no, we won't have our wedding night here, okay? I just want to hold my beautiful wife for a while, nothing more I promise." 

As has always been the case with them, however, their kisses grow more heated and very quickly escalate into heavy petting. Soon and without any protest both find themselves naked from the waist up. April is on his lap and Jackson is kissing his way down her neck to her exquisite breasts and just as his mouth finds her nipple, the door to the on-call room bursts open. 

"April!" thunders Matthew, shocked at the scene before him. 

"Matthew…" stutters April , wrapping her arms firmly around Jackson's neck and pushing her body up closer to him – it's the only way she can think of to hide her chest from Matthew's view. 

"Avery, what the hell? Way to fight dirty man!" Matthew addresses Jackson. 

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way Matthew," April responds giving Jackson an admonishing look, "but Jackson and I are married." 

"Yes, April is my wife," Jackson acknowledges and reaching into his nearby coat pocket he once again removes Matthew's ring and holds it out to him. "I'm sorry, man, for the way we handled this – you were just collateral damage." 

Matthew has no choice this time but to take the ring from him. Angry and devastated he storms out of the room, almost bumping into a passing Cristina. 

Regretting the hurt she's caused, April just leans her forehead on her husbands, accepting his comfort. 

"Hi," he jokes, "hope we didn't go through all that for nothing." 

"Hey!" she smacks him gently across his uninjured shoulder. 

The door is thrust open once more and the couple inside groan simultaneously, they just can't catch a break. 

"Kepner, you continue to surprise me!" smirks Cristina. 

"It's Avery…"


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Osteogenesis Imperfecta, Type 2...the medical diagnosis that destroyed their happy pregnancy bubble.

"With type 2, we're dealing with low birth weight, underdeveloped lungs, swallowing problems, respiratory problems. If carried to term type 2 infants typically die within a few hours of delivery. Sometimes days. Your baby is also at high risk for inter-uterine fracturing." Dr. Nicole Herman, the Head of Fetal Surgery at GSM, an expert in her field. She was the 'Big Gun' of the Department, fired-up to break the news to them, destroying their hopes with the nature of this insidiously devastating diagnosis.

They'd been plodding along, so happy in their marriage bubble, learning each others quirks and the little idiosyncrasies that friendship hadn't prepared them for. Of course there were arguments, they were too different and let's face it agreeing on everything (when they'd butted heads before) was improbable and would make for very boring wedded bliss. The make-up sex alone was incentive enough to disagree.

Admittedly when they fought they went big! No wishy-washy minor problems, they fought about organized religion and whether it was ridiculous or if lack of faith was something to be pitied. They fought about whether their hypothetical children would be raised with a belief system, other than the moral compass that both their parents epitomized. Although, on principle alone, they'd both learned the art of compromise and Jackson sometimes gave in, simply to remove the expression of devastation from his stubborn wife's face. In his quiet moments he admitted to himself that he was whipped and simply because he was unable to bear her experiencing any pain or hurt. Which made this diagnosis doubly hard on him.

The pregnancy had been a surprise. Shifting the conversation from hypothetical to real had required a period of adjustment for him but once he'd allowed himself to accept the reality of children with the woman he loved, he was ecstatic. For April, the acceptance was much easier – she was born to be a mother!

"Inter-uterine...my baby's bones are breaking...inside of my belly? The place he's supposed to be safest, his bones are breaking. Can he feel it...his bones breaking? I mean he can feel it right? So he's in pain?"

While religion reared its fatalistic mores, creating conflict with his Kepner in-laws, one thing that made him fall more in love with his wife than ever was experiencing her strength. Her beliefs, strong though they were, took a backseat to the suffering that their baby would have to endure, if he survived.

Letting Samuel go was so devastating for him and he could not even comprehend what April suffered. She lost a bit of her faith too, on that disastrous day when their only alternative was an induction-termination procedure. Samuel Norbert Avery was born and died within that hour.

Grey Sloan Memorial, the constant, was the site of their greatest happiness (when they wed) and also the site of their most devastating deprivation – to enter a hospital pregnant and to leave without a baby was something that a soul would never recover from. Perhaps the unbearableness of the pain would wane with time, but never abate.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

It was turning out to be quite the sexcapade, one of his finest if he was to be honest. Almost unparalleled. Down and dirty. Doin' the nasty, with no finesse but culminating in devastating personal pleasure. She did everything for and to him and while it went against his grain, allowed no reciprocity. Being the beneficiary of all that pent up sexuality he was moderately surprised when she purred into his ear that he was the best she'd ever had. 

* * *

The day started out innocently enough and, if you disregarded his misery, it was like any other day at Grey Sloan Memorial. Not that his unhappiness was visible to his peers, he was stoic as usual, but everyone was familiar with their history. Also his interruption of the Taylor Flash Mob Proposal and his subsequent, witnessed, love proclamation to the Paramedic's intended, not only culminated in _their_ same-day nuptials but also achieved legendary status at the hospital. It was a swoon-worthy tale that appealed to the romantic at heart. For the couple involved though, being as private as they were, they loathed the notoriety and especially that it emanated at the expense of two innocents. 

Discounting their history, their present on full display became fodder for scandalmongers. The rumor mill was going wild and its source was April's closest friend, or her number two, if he was thrown into the mix (he obviously being first). Perhaps he had been dethroned in the BFF category, he wondered to himself. 

Although Arizona had been well meaning and, to both of them, adviceorial (not even a valid word, but obvious and apropos in intent), she had a hard time keeping things to herself and this was hot of the press – Separation of the Averys. As Stephanie and Matthew would say "Karma's a bitch" – well not really Matthew who was so far off the grid as to be inconsequential and who was too well-mannered to resort to such speech. Not that he believed, but kowtowing to popular culture he reflected that Karma was biting him in the arse in a major way. He sighed in resignation at his karmic destiny when his previous ex stepped into the elevator, leaving him alone in the metal cubicle with Dr. Stephanie Edwards. 

"Dr. Avery," she greeted, surprisingly flirtatious. 

Apparently she was done imagining that he did not exist and even though more than a year had lapsed since their last encounter of a personal nature, he recognized her coquettish manner. He was no fool, he'd been the recipient of female attention since kindergarten. So at this stage in his life he possessed above average awareness of sexual innuendo. 

Since gossip at the hospital was rife and spreading like wildfire, he'd become the inheritor of all types of sexually suggestive insinuations, even from the newly minted interns. They seemed entirely career driven and completely self-involved, so the inappropriateness of their conduct was not even a blip on their radar. 

Women had always flocked towards him, if not for his looks then his family's wealth or, for people in the know, his Medical Legacy. All three together were a potent combination. His mentor, Mark Sloan, had coined a term for this moth to a flame quality he owned, calling it his 'Avery Sparkle'. 

He did not entertain Stephanie's body language which she cloaked with intimate overtones by her seductive, deepened voice– he simply stepped further away from her. Professional courtesy however, and his damn ingrained Avery genes, insisted on a polite response. 

"Dr. Edwards," he replied in kind. 

"So, you and Dr. Kepner…" she started, expectantly. 

He ignored her prompt and simply gazed expressionlessly back at her. 

Being a colleague and having previous insight into his behavior and mannerisms, she was very clear on the "Don't go there" message his eyes displayed and the change from impassive to one lifted eyebrow – his very own "Fuck off" which he would never express in that vulgar terminology. Nonetheless, she remained undeterred, but before she could gather her thoughts enough to proposition him the elevator doors opened at his destination floor. 

Still not dissuaded from her mission she rushed to follow him, having to run to draw level with his huge strides. Catching up to him in a partly deserted corridor she grabbed his arm to halt his headlong flight away from her. 

"Stop, okay?! Please. I just wanna say something. Don't you think you owe me that at least?" 

Anything to get him to listen, even if it meant using his guilt at the speed and manner in which he broke up with her! And it worked. One thing that always got to her was that she lost out on a true Man's Man when he ended it. He'd been a bit of a douche, emotionally cold really, during their brief 'relationship' and the method of their breakup was right up there in uncouth behavior, but she knew _that_ was the anomaly. And of course he became aware of her scheming. 

The fact that she could appeal to his culpability in the failure of their liaison as well as that he tried to apologize and attempted to make amends to her later proved that a decent guy existed beneath his emotionless façade. Over the passage of time she was able to objectively view the scene of her embarrassment and the conclusion she reached was that April Kepner was one heck of a lucky woman – to be considered worthy of being loved so completely by such a man. 

Astounding character and this epic Romeo and Juliet Love Story aside, all Stephanie's mind could comprehend at this moment was that her ex-lover was separated from his wife. Her body, on the other hand, was vibrating with all these conflicting sensations, predominantly reminding her of the major dry spell she was experiencing (including the almost 'Jailbait' excursion) and that prior to his marriage Dr. Avery had been more than proficient at satiating her physical desires. She decided to stop beating around the bush and straightforwardly declare her intentions but noting that Jackson's deadpan expression was morphing into impatience and exasperation she went with euphemisms. Her voice stuttered hesitantly but she forged ahead – the fear of rejection was worth a successful payoff. 

"Do you wanna get it on? With me, I mean?" 

Observing his immobility and still blank expression, she clarified. 

"The horizontal mambo…hanky panky…the wild thing…getting laid or getting some…going at it and all the way…jumping bones…humping, shagging, boinking, screwing…sklooging…" 

"Sklooging?" he quizzically repeated, finally engaging. 

Well at least that got a reaction, she supposed. "Newest catch phrase for coitus…err…intercourse." 

Hesitation – the moment called for silence. 

"So do you wanna have sex?" 

To say that she'd managed to surprise him was a vast understatement. He remembered when their patient, the Chef with the severed penis, had been brought to the Trauma Centre and Stephanie had been tasked with delivering the torn appendage to him for reconstructive grafting before reattachment. She'd been all flustered and comical about the 'Package'. 

While she still went about today's discussion circuitously, the point was made and she drove it home with her last direct pronouncement. Mentally he guffawed, perhaps sexual inference was catching. Yet outwardly he manifested a smooth countenance and turning away from the newly qualified attending he sauntered towards the opposite direction, leaving her in limbo. 

Was this an acceptance or rejection of her proposal? Perhaps this necessitated a wardrobe emergency! 

Unbeknownst to either of them, their entire conversation had an unintended eavesdropper... 

* * *

It had been a while. She gazed around the drinking establishment, curious and waiting, and her gaze was immediately drawn to the bar patron as he entered. He was beautiful, of course. Was he worth her humiliating herself again? Worth breaking the rules? The answers to both were apparent and a resounding 'Yes'. 

"Buy you a drink? Or would you rather get out of here?" she enquired on approach. 

The speed of his actions astounded her. He threw some bills onto the countertop, flung back the rest of his drink and grabbed her hand to lead her out. His actions were so hurried and his pace so unexpected that she staggered slightly on her stilettos, almost running to keep up with him and to avoid being dragged in his wake. Perhaps the heels were a mistake, but she'd worn them with seduction in mind. Recalling her idea she used all the strength at her disposal to pull him to a halt before he hauled her up the stairs that led down to the basement pub entrance. 

"Do you wanna get it on? With me, I mean?" she delicately whispered into his ear. 

She moved between his thighs, lifted her red-heeled shod foot as far as the short skirt of her dress would allow and ran it over the back of his calf. Pulling him into a torrid embrace she kissed him with such fervor, imprinting him with the knowledge of who was in control and who was left panting in response. She was seductress and he was seduced. 

* * *

He gazed in awe, almost reverential – a fascinated, willing audience of one to her striptease performance. Was this natural sensuality or a learned eroticism? He allowed his body to fall back onto the bed where he'd been pushed, an audible gulp escaping the dryness invading his vocal cords. 

While he was not tied up physically all his faculties felt knotted up with the tension that attacks a body pre-release. As he opened his mouth to attempt speech and move from spectator towards participant she crawled onto the bed towards him, revving his excitement to full throttle. She reached over and covered his lips with her index finger, shushing him with the gesture. He capitulated to the 'no talking' rule but swiped his tongue over the finger blocking his mouth, which she then surrendered to his ministrations for a quick swirl before replacing the digit with her tongue. 

The magnitude of his involvement in foreplay was her allowing him to engage his lips and tongue in wild, toe-curling kisses. His hands were held prisoner, initially by her own, and then simply by her soft-voiced commands or punishments when they strayed. Her retaliatory nips and bites were incentive enough for his continued disobedience but he restrained himself, intent on experiencing the culmination to his total submission. Never in his entire existence had he allowed anyone to absorb absolute mastery of his body. With a contented sigh he yielded his all, loving her self-assurance and trusting the honesty of her gaze. And the sex was mind-blowing. 

Twice they'd gone at it, with a very brief recovery period in between. Lips were in play that evening but not for talking. Sighs, grunts and groans were their acoustic and mutual satisfaction their final destination. Although no bondage transpired, he was figuratively a submissive to her dominant – she got-off on being on top and enjoyed the control he allowed her. They were ships in the night leaving each other at dawn with nary a word spoken but a drawn-out final kiss. Until the following night… 

Neither of them had been able to stay away from the pub. The likelihood that the other would be there drove them both to the establishment, chancing an encounter. He was an adrenalin rush and she an aphrodisiac and both were addicted to the erotic stimuli. The rest of the week passed in a similar vein with the one major difference being that by their third hook-up they skipped the bar entirely and got straight down to the business of…getting down. 

* * *

A week of nighttime extracurricular activities later found Jackson seated once again in Dr. Kim Dawson's office, listening to April hypothesize on their failures, wondering all the while if it was an appropriate time to mention the clandestine encounters. Dr. Dawson was the therapist recommended by Arizona Robbins and was who had aided Callie and herself during the rocky time before their decision to call it quits. Admittedly the failed marriage of their friends was not the best recommendation, but Arizona insisted that Dr. Dawson had aided the couple in the realization that they had grown apart. The crash and burn of their marriage was all their own doing – Kim Dawson was simply a facilitator to their arbitration. Although, it soon became apparent to both April and himself that Dr. Dawson was a one trick horse. Similar to her treatment plan with the Torres-Robbins duo, she had recommended a physical separation of the Averys coupled with a very stern 30-day 'No Sex, No Talking' embargo – well no communication aside from in her presence and during sessions. 

"April…we need to talk," Jackson caught up to her immediately outside the therapist's rooms. 

"But…you…we…no talking…" she confusedly attempted to deflect, a stickler for the rules. 

"And how's that going for you?" Jackson sarcastically rejoined. 

"Okay, okay, I know you're right. Let's grab a coffee and…" she stopped at the beeping of both their pagers – 911 major trauma put a crimp in that idea. 

"As soon as we're free, send me a text or a page. It's got to be done. We good?" he replied as they both raced to attend to the emergencies that required their instant attention. 

"Yeah, good to go." 

He should have realized that it was an impossible situation – she was a freaking Trauma Surgeon. He gazed down from the viewing deck into the operating room she currently occupied knowing that the surgery would not be over anytime soon. Their conversation, at least a week overdue, would have to wait one more day. At odds with himself and knowing he would be alone he decided to go to the rendezvous destination hotel room. He toed of his sneakers as soon as he stepped into the room, made himself comfortable on the plush comforter and was instantly lights out. 

* * *

He was awoken in the most delicious manner. Her slight weight already atop his excitable body, she kissed him voraciously. Still groggy and gripped in the throes of passion he succumbed to the hunger. As he approached his climax he called her name out fiercely. 

"April," he sighed out this time, his breath returning to normal. 

"Shh…no April, no Jackson, no Averys here" April softly replied. 

"We can't be Ostriches, April!" he exasperatedly responded. 

"Huh…what?" 

"No matter how enjoyable this interlude has been, we can't keep burying our heads in the sand, April. Hence Ostrich." 

She thought about his words for a long moment before she suggested a counter offer to his suggestion. 

"You're right," she agreed, with this directionally challenged, very rarely used phrase between a husband and wife. "But…" and the qualifier was to be expected! Men everywhere groaned loudly in conjunction with her spouse…so close… 

"But what?" he probed. 

"Let's be strangers getting to know one another, when we're here. Or better yet we'll be just April and just Jackson – AppleJacks…" 

"Like the cereal?" 

"Jackson!" she smacked his chest. "Apple doesn't sound very sexy, right? And I want to be this sexy woman, having you as my lover," she continued. 

"Well an Apple did get Adam and Eve thrown out of the Garden of Eden. What?" 

"How do you know this? And it wasn't the apple, it was temptation…ahh I see where you're going with this." 

"I may not believe Apple, but I _do_ read. So okay," he smilingly returned, wanting the same thing she did. "We'll be Apple and Jacks. Surgeon Best Friends, Lovers who are dating and relearning each other. She's just returned from Moline, He's been waiting." 

"They're getting to know more about each other with the dynamic of sex and intimacy thrown into the mix…" 

"Yeah, Applejacks here and Jackson and April Avery out there, especially with the touchy-feely doctor," he rolls his eyes. "Wait, what about Samuel?" Loathe as he is to destroy their return to intimacy by assuming the mantle of their past relationship, he knows that talking about their son is vital. 

"We'll talk about Samuel in therapy okay? And yeah, let's not tell her about AppleJacks. How would we explain that the 'no sex' decree didn't even last days…although we, err _they_ , did keep to the 'no talking' rule." 

"Hmm, good thinking. Which reminds me, what brought on this whole seduction routine? You know I would never give up on us and I would never be unfaithful to you. Which is not to say that I haven't loved being with you like this. I love you, Apple." 

"I love you too, Jacks. And the only person that you're gonna be sklooging is me!" 


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

He rushes through his appointments intent on finding his way back to the ER. No sign of April. She didn't come home last night and while he'd had experiences of her absence – especially when their schedules did not sync – and therefore enough time to familiarize himself with the lack, her absence still smarts. It's also unlike her. She usually let him know where she was, if not directly then via text message or a note. 

Being a man of science he's always been keenly aware of provable facts but being a doctor and witnessing some unexplainable phenomena, he trusts in intuition too and his instinct right now is Defcon 3, Code Red, High Alert and all those warning bells – something was way off in his world. 

Spotting Arizona entering the Emergency Room he starts making his way towards her, but it seems to be the goal of each and every new intern to thwart him reaching his destination. His journey also appears to be a slow-motioned march through gello, the official dessert of all hospitals. His voyage culminates once he reaches Arizona. 

"Where is my wife?!" he hisses in a furious whisper. 

"I haven't seen her yet this morning. What time did she come in?" Arizona confusedly asks. 

"What do you mean? Didn't you put her up last night?" he worriedly questions. 

"I don't even have my own place Jackson! Besides when I left last night she said she was leaving soon after me. She was calm and assured me that she was fine to drive on her own. Now that I think about it though, she never specifically said that she was going home. Did you kick her out of the apartment! You're a class act Avery!" 

She mockingly pantomimes a sarcastic approval with a double thumbs-up. Aware as he is of being publicly chastised he can only be thankful that thumb is the digit she's decided to extend. 

"I DID NOT kick her out Robbins," Jackson emphasizes, scratching at his eyebrow while lines of unease seem to etch itself into his forehead. "She's not answering her phone and I have no idea where she is!" 

"Did you check the OR board? Maybe she's in surgery or maybe she stayed in an on-call room or…" 

Her suppositions are rudely interrupted by her frantic colleague. 

"Of course I checked the board! Do you think I'm an idiot?!" Manners and finesse take a back seat to his apprehension and he lashes out at Arizona. 

His anxiety is contagious – Arizona becomes infected with his similar symptomatic agitation. Both take turns dialing the number to April's mobile hoping with each tone that this will be the occasion that she answers before the ringing terminates and the call diverts to voice-mail. Expanding all avenues, Jackson has text messages sent to her pager too and even resorts to intercom announcements. The total radio silence that he is met with only increases his trepidation. 

This feeling in his chest is not new, it's one he just hasn't weighed in on yet but now is not the time for emotional analysis. Fear, however, guides his actions and predominant in his mind is a Vine loop of the myriad emotions that reflected on April's visage during their argument the previous evening – shock, sorrow, hurt, a smidgeon of fear but also anger and a glint of temper in the jagged gesture of brushing away tears from her eyes. 

His panic is exacerbated by the fact that he knows his wife…all too well. No matter how exasperated or downright livid she was, she would never ever ignore a page or call. She was too aware of the fragility of life and quite often the necessity to swift action. Trauma in and of itself necessitated rapid responses and he knew that two other factors played a major role in her awareness of the fleeting nature of time. The first being her recent stint in the army and having a front row seat to carnage and mayhem, requiring instant resolution for a successful outcome. The second, much closer to home, was the speed at which their son was forever removed from their lives – one minute they were happy, expectant parents and the next was a shattering diagnosis that required immediate attention. The induction-termination procedure that April went through to protect Samuel from a pain-riddled life, gave them an extremely small window – they barely had time with him after his birth. He was there and then he let go. 

* * *

Instantaneous accessibility in the form of wireless technology was his nemesis today. As were the police. Apparently to be considered a missing person and one worthy of having their disappearance being investigated by the law, one had to have been AWOL (in the non-military sense) for at least a 24 hour period. There was also the small matter of suspicious activity, criminal intent coupled with foul play or evidence of intention to commit grievous bodily harm. These factors not withstanding all Jackson had to go on was his instinct. 

He'd watched enough 'Law and Order' to know that due to the high volume of intimate partner violence and crimes of passion, police were first and foremost directed towards the spouse or partner as a person of interest and their marital dispute of the previous night would do nothing to allay suspicions. It would in fact fan the flames. His concern for April outweighed all these considerations, and he was even prepared to undergo a police interrogation if it meant that they would forego the waiting period and conduct a probe into her disappearance right away and without delay. The downside to this, contrarily, was that questioning and delving into him as a suspect in her departure would divert from the original requirement of their services – that of instantly locating his wife…hopefully unharmed. 

Unable to rely on law enforcement due to their stringent, intractable policy regarding missing persons, Jackson resolved to take the law into his own hands – well the investigative leg of it. What also motivated him towards this mindset was the general consensus regarding the newly unhidden, prevailing racist ideology that was rampant in Police Departments across the US. Reliance on the efficiency and effectiveness of those sworn to uphold the law was at a low ebb, if not completely non-existent and especially regarding the black population. Incidences of police violence towards people of color resulting in injury and death of those targeted by them was statistically frightening – it was a terrifying time to be a black person in America. Uprising and revolution was imminent and the #BlackLivesMatter movement was gaining momentum. This definitely did not inspire confidence in the law. It did nonetheless convince Jackson that the law as an impartial assist would not be aiding this black man to locate the white woman who had married him. 

* * *

He was technologically competent as opposed to April who was tech savvy. She'd actually been one of the initial proponents of twitter at the hospital, tweeting during surgeries she was observing and utilizing the social platform as a teaching tool. It had caught on like wild fire. Dr. Bailey had carried out running commentaries during her surgeries, responding to tweeted questions instantly via April's quick-fingered reply tweets. 

Back then both April and himself, along with their regular crew, were ambitious interns. They were hungry and so eager for knowledge and experience and the then named Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital, as a teaching facility, was very open to out of the box thinkers. April had even managed to win over the old, big dog – Chief Webber – who'd taken to retweeting Bailey's 'teets', as he unintentionally mispronounced to Dr. Hunt. 

Jackson had learnt a lot from April, enough to become a proficient tweeter and blogger, but his reserved nature and probably just general laziness, meant that he wasn't as dexterous as his wife in all manner of technological applications. Why his iPhone contact list still had her recorded as 'April Kepner'! It had remained that way since he first inputted it, upon their initial acquaintance almost a decade ago. Although, to be fair, what could he have changed it to? 

The endearments that he called her at times were kind of inappropriate as an entrant on his smart device address book. The circumstances and situations they found themselves in dictated how he addressed her – "Babe" when he was feeling playful, "Sweetheart" when she was being all adorable and even just her name in a tone that the moment dictated. For them generic nomenclature was not the norm or rather their normal was generic with a personalized twist. 

Aware that both their smartphones are equipped with a number of different location-sharing apps, Jackson is also mindful of the fact that these would only work if the user lets you know where they are by employing the location-aware check-in features. Being that neither he nor April are celebrities or attention junkies, this functionality has basically been ignored by both of them. To his way of thinking, privacy far outweighed the intrusive nature of those phone applications. 

Just before April had left to join the troops at the front-lines however, Jackson had eschewed privacy for the comforting option of being able to track her whereabouts in these hot spots. After careful research he subscribed to AccuTracking – a Web interface that uses the Global Positioning System to track the geographical location of a phone. Provided that the device's GPS chip has been enabled and as long as the phone's battery hasn't run down, the position of the phone can immediately be revealed. 

For her protection and safety, Jackson had furthermore had a vehicle tracking system installed in April's automobile. It was one of his immediate priorities when they returned from their short honeymoon in Lake Tahoe. A tracking device was installed by the service provider's mobile technician – a Wireless Sleuth Nano Tracking Unit. 

Utilizing similar GPS technology, the cyber sleuth could be operated via web interface – anywhere, anytime and in real time. This meant that aside from the normal internet access on computers, any mobile phone with an advanced operating system would correspondingly be able to track and trace a vehicle's movement history, individual trip routes, the start and end point of each trip and the information that he presently required – the motor vehicle's current location. 

* * *

Being that he wasn't sexist, he knew that the feminist witticism of multi-tasking being the successful ambit of only women, while mostly the standard, was not entirely true. He sat out to disprove the generalization by concurrently logging onto the different websites, utilizing multiple technological devices. He did, nevertheless, second Arizona to continue attempting to receive a response on April's phone. 

His past experience during Trauma rotation, before he'd chosen his specialty, had taught him that during crisis situations everything happened simultaneously – probably where the adage 'It doesn't rain but it pours' emanated. That maxim proved accurate. Before he could breathe a sigh of relief as the cyber sleuth loaded the location of April's vehicle – a destination he was familiar with – the ringing of her telephone was cut off. 

Arizona had applied the speaker option on the landline device situated at the Nurses Desk on the Emergency Floor, so he'd been an avid audience to every other call that had gone unanswered. With palpable relief he was on the verge of responding with a severe tongue-lashing once the voice on the other end replied, only to be met with silence which was then interspersed with heavy breath sounds and a low, guttural moan. What followed resonated within him – scrambling movements trailed by a low pitched voice uttering a one syllable word that stopped his heart, "Bitch!" 

It was true. _Only_ women could multi-task; he was unable to refute the contention. Try as he might he was powerless to comprehend his next move. With his heart in his throat, his hands braced onto the counter, his breathing choppy and obvious apprehension overtaking him, he watched unbidden as Arizona overtook all his locating apps while continuing with her attempt to dial April's phone. She multi-tasked like a pro. 

While his knowledge had covered the compelling argument of medical treatment of a loved one being a 'conflict of interest', Jackson finally understood the whys and wherefores of the rule in this moment. Hearing Arizona's expletives when the attempted calls to April's phone once again reverted to endless ringing diverting to voice mail, awakened the raging beast within him. With a passing look at the tablet running the vehicle locating application, enough of a glance to note that her car was on the move, Jackson took off at a speed, causing Arizona to blink peculiarly at his retreating form. She felt like Wile E Coyote peering through a plume of dust, Roadrunner shaped. 

* * *

With no finesse he raced towards the point of origin he'd identified via the GPS tracker, spinning tires carelessly, attempting to reach his destination swiftly. Aware that he was hurtling as though he was an entrant in the Le Mans Grand Prix, he was thankful that he wasn't pulled over by traffic cops. That would have unnecessarily involved him in a game of twenty questions and his gut was telling him that time was of the essence. 

He dashed out of his SUV with reckless abandon, ignoring the vehicle's prompts to shut the door. The situation was reminiscent of his roadside marriage proposal which had been prompted by their first pregnancy scare. Then, both he and April had been so intent on their exchange that neither their surroundings nor the running engine or wide open doors had impacted on their conversation. Jackson had actually joked about their safety from bears. Engrossed as they'd been with each other and their future together, even if all three bears _and_ Goldilocks had made an appearance, it would not have disturbed their tête-à-tête. In a similar vein, his attention today was once again wholly centered on April. Finding her and assuring himself of her safety. 

He spotted her and for the briefest moment exhaled, relieved. Until he noticed that she was unmoving. Observing the surrounding area for imminent danger, he approached her rapidly, calling out as he advanced. 

His heart literally broke at her posture. Her body was curled in as she usually did with him but where normally her head would rest on his chest this time her forehead lay against the headstone with her fingertips against the name 'Samuel Norbert Avery'. 

Terror jackknifed into his throat as a vivid color sprang into his vision, causing a momentary breathlessness. Adjacent to the tiny handprint that epitomized their baby's hand was the larger hand and fingerprints of Samuel's mother. Not chiseled into the headstone but painted blood-red, exactly the vibrant hue dripping from the slice in April's neck. 


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"April?! April! God, what's happened? Who did this to you?" he entreated, calling on a deity he didn't believe existed, while applying pressure to the penetrating wound in her throat, attempting to stem the gushing crimson tide. 

Her eyelids lifted slowly, which surprised him since he was convinced that she was out cold. She opened her mouth to speak but she was unable to formulate words. He feared the worst. He worried that the Dysphonia she was exhibiting – difficulty in speaking – was indicative of severe damage to her vocal cords. All that emerged from her was a gurgling regurgitation of fluids. 

"Stay with me April… _please_ …I can't lose you!" he begged. 

As he tried to soothe her she lifted her hand and caressed his cheek, mingling the clear trail of tears that he was unaware were streaming unabated down his face, with the still wet bright stain on her fingers. Her own form of reassurance to him before she slipped into unconsciousness. 

The copious bleeding horrified him, as he was very cognizant of the swiftness with which an individual could exsanguinate if the carotid artery or jugular veins were severed. Also, with the volume of blood-loss obscuring the severity of the wound as well as him being unable to pinpoint the exact amount of time that had transpired since the trauma occurred, had Jackson operating in the dark. He had to act fast. His best option was to get her to GSM immediately! 

* * *

It was undoubtedly a balancing act, but he was familiar with her slight weight as he'd lifted her up numerous times – the first being when she'd run to him as she accepted his proposal on that shadowy turnpike. Even when she'd been pregnant with Samuel, he'd adored lifting her petite, still tiny frame. This time there was no assist from her – she was dead weight. 

He had to ensure that he was able to apply adequate compression to the spurting wound while carrying her and then while driving. On this return trip he inadvertently snagged the attention of the police. With some tricky maneuvering he succeeded in rolling down his window and simply said to the officers "Emergency, Grey Sloan Memorial!" It was a rare happenstance for GSM – one of their own driven into the trauma bay, bells and whistles flashing and escorted by a police motorcade. 

* * *

He paced outside the operating room. Hunt and Bailey, both shocked at the senseless violence perpetrated towards their protégé, managed to set-aside their personal feelings enough to be able to treat her injuries. They quickly assessed her wounds and surmised that immediate surgery was the best and only option. 

Dr. Bailey's initial reaction was stupefaction. It had barely been a day since she'd loudly expressed how impressed she was with the new and improved April 2.0 – the badass Trauma Surgeon. While Jackson had been proud of her accomplishments and yes, equally impressed, he was disappointed that this adrenaline rush she was experiencing had become an addiction that allowed no room in her life for it to co-exist with him. His finally opening her eyes to his feelings and her disregard of them is what led to their spat and converted their marriage into one that became a source of ultimatums. 

He had actually been a bit peeved with Bailey's judgmental attitude of the previous day. To him, April had always been badass, she'd just coupled it with a kind heart, and that made her a rare breed in the Surgical Field. 

Her number one priority was always the care and betterment of her patient. No unnecessary surgeries, minimally invasive procedures where possible and always the utmost care of the individual. To her, the patient was first and foremost a person and she afforded them the respect that entailed. 

The day that Samuel died she'd meted out and herself found a measure of peace by helping the bereaved fiancé of a trauma casualty from the night before. So while Bailey 'The Nazi's' arrogant brashness was grating to him and the antithesis of what April epitomized, that very brazenness ensured that his trust in her abilities was not misplaced. 

* * *

Forced into the role of an awaiting news spouse caused him to reassess his motivation and the underlying anxiety it represented. His fear, cloaked in coolness, had manifested into a 'Pick me, choose me or else' challenge. He had time too, to reflect on his mistakes. Both of them were at fault for not expressing their true sentiments. He conceded to himself that his analysis of her actions were purely speculative and took no cognizance of her emotional turmoil, which she was at fault for keeping from him too. 

He realized as well that the terror he'd experienced while she was on the front-lines, which he'd mistakenly thought he'd be able to bury if she re-enlisted and they separated, was what he was experiencing right now, and which had happened in their own backyard and on his watch. 

This anxiety for her well-being was something he would never be able to bury or get rid off. The basis of his ultimatum was therefore ludicrous. Once she woke up he would do everything in his power to convince her that he loved her unconditionally and he would never call an end to their marriage. If she was still intent on Jordan...well it was something they could discuss. 

* * *

His pacing did nothing to abate his apprehension. From being pushed aside in the Emergency Room, to his short stint in the viewing gallery, where Alex had forced his departure when he appeared to be losing it, and onwards to his slowly unravelling patience outside the Operating Room, Jackson was lost. 

Remembering that up in the gallery Callie had mentioned that the Police were waiting to speak with him, he decided to acquiesce to their request – he needed to get to the bottom of the who, what and why of his wife's attack. Whatever the motivation for the crime, the perpetrator had left her for dead and that inflamed him to such a rage that The Hulk had nothing on him vis-à-vis retribution. 

He needed a moment to cool down before he met with the officers and he was thankful that he went with his decision of splashing some water onto his face. Gazing at his reflection in the bathroom mirror he was visibly shaken at the glaring blood prints, apparently from when April had stroked his cheek. His barely held composure crumbled at this discernable evidence of his almost widowhood, which status could still be probable. Unbidden, loud uncontrollable sobs racked his body. She was the love of his life and without her life had no meaning. 

* * *

Having regained some measure of control in his demeanor and presentation, he made his way towards the Trauma Bay – the last known location of his police escort. GSM's credentials as a Level 1 Trauma Centre as well as their policy of not diverting cases to other hospitals unless unavoidable capacity issues arose, meant that most accidents – freak, vehicular or abnormal – landed on their doorstep. It was therefore no surprise to Jackson to witness a trauma that had quite literally landed through the ER doorway. What stunned him was that the automobile inhabiting the Grey Sloan Emergency Room was none other than April's. 

He watched, bemused. The police officers rushed to assist the trauma team with removing what appeared to be a white male, average looking, mid to late twenties with no distinguishable features, from the front crumbled tin-can of a vehicle. 

On any other day his cynicism would have had him believing that the Policemen's Oath 'To Protect and Serve' was, in this case, a visible example of white privilege. Today, conversely, those officers had aided him in his time of need, redeeming to a degree their tarnished reputation. 

The driver, miraculously, appeared unscathed from his altercation with the ER. That condition lasted mere seconds. Before anyone could ascertain his intent, Jackson pushed through the few remaining hospital personnel assessing the would-be patient, pulled back his arm and let loose with a punch reminiscent of the time he'd lit into Alex Karev. 

Enraged as he was, he continued to pummel the guy and even went back for seconds and then a third time after the officers pulled him away. Restraining him required two able-bodied policemen. 

He watched the cowering form of the man, satisfied to note that he'd drawn blood but dissatisfied that he'd been forced to stop. He zeroed in on the blood spatter apparent on the fellows T-Shirt and he uttered a snarl of rage while attempting to throw off the cops holding him back. He didn't need to be a blood- spatter analyst – à la Dexter Morgan – to know that the blood was April's and that this was the guy that had inflicted her life-threatening injuries. 

The policeman, who looked to be a lead officer, gazed quizzically at him. He didn't even bother acknowledging the officer's questioning gaze but directly addressed the criminal he'd beat-up. 

"You attacked her…you slit her throat! Why? What did she ever do to you?! Why would you stab her and leave her to die?!" he interrogated the perpetrator, in lieu of the police cross-examining the suspect. His purpose was not to do their job for them, he simply needed answers. 

"What? I don't know what you're talking about. Arrest this man, officer! You saw him beat me!" the man blustered nasally. 

Jackson hoped that he'd broken his nose. He was prepared to eschew his Hippocratic Oath – Physician first do no harm, it said, referencing standard ethical practices, but he was not a doctor here. He was an enraged spouse who had almost lost his wife to this murdering psychopath. 

Understanding the method to his madness, the lead officer inclined his head towards his partner and both released Jackson from their restraint simultaneously. Being partners they understood each other's non-verbal cues and their actions indicated an implicit trust. 

The officer had not been idle during the time they had been waiting on Dr. Avery. He was a detective in training, so although this case had not been assigned to him, being a first responder to the crime, he had taken the initiative. He'd, in the interim, managed to question some of the Drs. Averys colleagues, as well as observing the husband's behavior. 

His own experience as a man in love and one who constituted one half of an interracial couple, also gave him additional insight. The catch-phrases of 'modern times' and 'twenty-first century' hardly impacted day to day experiences. Knowing the inherent difficulties present when two people of different races married, he knew that the willingness to overcome the odds stacked against them, implied an enormous capacity of love between the pair. He was also hyper-aware of the retribution he would inflict were he in Jackson Avery's shoes. So he allowed Dr. Avery some latitude while simultaneously conveying to the suspect that for now, pre- evidence gathering, their belief in the doctor's words held sway. 

Released by the cop duo, Jackson approached the still blustering, bleeding driver and lifted him up by his lapels. To retain traction on the floor the guy had to balance onto the tips of his toes, simulating a pirouette. Jackson had not calmed down one iota. If anything his wrath was magnified by the shifty-eyed, loud-mouthed, lying sack of shit. Political correctness be damned, he couldn't be bothered censoring his views. 

"Stop lying! You drove here in her car, you have her blood all over you and you came to the hospital where she works. Tell me the truth! I have no problem beating it out of you!" 

The strong, unpleasant stench of urine filled the air. Observing that no help was forthcoming from any quarter, the true nature of the bully revealed itself by emptying its bladder. 

Unfazed by body fluids (he was a doctor after all) Jackson continued to shake the man, demanding answers. 

"Why did you attack my wife?! Why did you stab her?! Why are you here? Did you come here to stop her from identifying you?" he snarled. In the past, those who'd had the opportunity of observing an irate Jackson Avery, knew his angry persona to be one of quiet voice combined with biting, hurtful sarcasm. This loud monster was a sight to behold. 

"Your…your wife?" the criminal mastermind stuttered. The sound of his own voice spurred him on and he initially attempted to deflect. "Then it's your fault," he petulantly complained to Jackson. 

This raised the eyebrows of those witnessing the altercation, including the two policeman, who were wondering if their hypothesis of the doctor's character was off-base. The Lead 'almost' detective wondered for a very brief second if he should halt this interesting grilling of the suspect but he figured that letting this entertaining tableau unfold would perhaps solve the case for him. 

Seeing the murderous intent reflected in Jackson's eyes, loosened other floodgates and the suspect started singing like a canary. 

"She wouldn't give me the diamond rings on a chain around her neck – she kept on whining about how much they meant to her. So I cut the chain from her. Then her damn phone wouldn't stop ringing, so I took that too. But I didn't hurt her, I swear. And then when I was driving her car I found her hospital ID badge and thought I could score some more drugs so I drove here and kinda misjudged the distance to the entrance – I have a depth perception problem you see. Is she okay? I'm sorry. She was crying and then smiling while she sat by that tiny grave. But she was stubborn – why didn't she just give me the jewels? Then no one would have got hurt. What are you gonna do to me huh?" The singing canary not only implicated himself but proved with his rambling confession that he was high as a kite. 

Jackson released his hold on the guilty man and walked away. There was somewhere he needed to be. 

* * *

It was hard to stomach that a revisit to this same hospital chapel was once again and so soon required. This chapel had witnessed his supplication to April's God, on her behalf, on the day of Samuel's birth and then death not long after. The scene and the sense from that day to now was similar and yet polar opposite. 

He realized that he hadn't informed his mother of what had befallen his family, but he decided to hold off until he received an accurate diagnosis from the doctors operating on April. He would not interrupt her unless absolutely necessary. It was also a matter of him adopting an optimistic approach to the situation – when confronted with April's positive prognosis the prerequisite for having that conversation would render the compulsion for said conversation null. 

He was not here for comfort. As before when he'd been driven to speak aloud to a Deity he did not even accept as real, he'd done it for her. April was unknowingly compelling him to keep to his promise – he was spending way too much time getting used to pews. 

"God…I still don't know if you can hear people who don't know if you're out there…or if you give a crap about what they say…but April believes…and she loves you, and you have to be there for her. You know you haven't been fair and just to her…Samuel is gone…and I refuse to let go of April. Just to be clear here, I still don't believe…but…circumstances have brought me here once again. So show up for April once more please! She's one of your good soldiers...send her back to me. I declare that I fully intend to make good on the promises I have made to her. Starting with not giving up on our marriage." 

Aware that he was making a vow in a place of worship to a God whose existence he had no faith in, did in no way delegitimize it. He believed in science not organized religion but that did not negate his ethical values. Common sense and conscience guided his moral compass towards honesty and integrity in everything he did. He trusted in himself and April and he undertook the full realization of his oaths. He believed in himself and he believed in April. 

As he sat there in contemplative silence, his active mind was a continuous carnival ride. The loops and dips were enough to cause a dizzy spell. How had a crime of opportunity morphed into a freak accident that had a non-believing atheist all but praying to a Divine Being whose very existence he doubted? 

Thankfully, one thought that could have driven him crazy, didn't even impact his awareness. The simple reason for his confident calmness, was that he considered the source. No strung out, inebriated junkie was going to convince him that the ring he'd painstakingly chosen for April, representing their eternal commitment to each other, would become a symbol of their failure. He would buy her new rings – a representation of their re-commitment to each other and their marriage. He would make it clear to April though, that the rings just exemplified their faith in each other and were, of course, a warning to encroachers. They required no physical manifestations and especially none that were worth her life. 

His attention automatically veered to the operation. Why was it taking so long? That did not bode well, he surmised but on the other hand one could infer from the duration of the op that April's body was able to handle the twin traumas of both the attack and surgery. He refused to go to the dark place. 

Perhaps the damage was worse than initially thought, requiring more surgery time? Or possibly April's mentor was being thorough, ensuring that all the inflicted wounds were patched-up? Or maybe they were being extra meticulous in perfecting the stitches to ensure minimal physical scarring – the hidden mental scars _he'd_ make sure _they_ dealt with. His cerebral waves continued the ebb and flow of 'what if's' while he played the waiting game. 

His head, swirling with thoughts, felt too heavy for his neck to support, so he simply hunched his shoulders and rested it into the anchor of his cupped hands. April had always been his mainstay and he was floating rudderless without her there to calm his stormy mind. 

Dragging him out of his dazed stupor was the large, post-surgery scrubbed hand of Dr. Owen Hunt landing on his shoulder. He jumped up from the pew he'd been occupying and schooling his features into impassivity, searched Hunt's face for an answer to the question he felt unable to voice. Usually stoic with everyone but April, he let his mask slip when he noted the reassuring nod and slight but clearly exhausted smile Owen sported. 

In a voice laden with emotion he started to ask, "Is she…?" 

"She's alive. She's strong and she survived the surgery – came through it like a trooper," Hunt answered, all too familiar with the sentiment displayed. This had hit him hard too. He'd come to admire and respect the scrappiness that was April Avery née Kepner. 

Exhaling in relief, Jackson continued, "Tell me everything." 

He'd taken a few steps before turning back to face Hunt. He approached him and gripped Owens right hand in a firm handshake and with his left hand clasped his shoulder. A professional handshake coupled with a friendly, half, man-hug. An implied acknowledgment of thanks to which Owen started to reply – he was going to go with "She's a soldier" but thought better of it on noting Jackson's lifted eyebrow. He knew that pushing his protégé to sign up for a tour of duty in a combat zone, had not endeared him with her spouse. He was aware too of the discord it had sown in their marriage, so reconsidering the statement Hunt just shrugged and with an embarrassed half smile graciously accepted the appreciation, sans comment. 

* * *

Having made his way up to post-op, Jackson stood looking down at April's still unconscious form while nurses bustled around, one even giving him a dirty look – obviously a stickler for the rules. He didn't care. Mr. 51% controlling member of the Board of this hospital was going to take whatever advantage that gave him. He would be with her here until she awoke, and he would be with her while they moved her, and he would be with her when they situated her in a private room and…he laughed softly to himself. Seems he'd become Mr. Vow Maker, he couldn't seem to stop making these promises to her – albeit unspoken and just in his head but very much binding. 

Once the nurses bustled away, he sat in the chair that one kind soul had situated beside her bed. Lifting April's hand to his lips, the one not connected to the fluid drip, he kissed it softly before just grasping it between both of his. He lay his head onto their joint hands, simply thankful to be able to have this moment. 

Hunt had regaled him with the procedures they'd performed to keep her alive and while he knew all the terms and what they meant, in that moment he was merely a husband being informed that his wife had survived the surgery to repair her after a brutal attack. He reflected on it now though. 

They'd had to crike her on the way to theatre, the blood obscuring the wound had compromised her airway. They performed the Cricothyrotomy because orotracheal and nasotracheal intubation had become impossible. The crike had been a temporary measure so once in surgery they'd had to go with a Tracheotomy – making an incision in her windpipe, opening a direct airway and allowing her to breathe via a tracheostomy tube. The laceration was at the level of the lower third of the thyroid cartilage and the wound had continued into the larynx. The thyroid cartilage had been cut horizontally and away from the supraglottic region, and the damage had continued to the hypopharynx and ended anterior to the prevertebral mucosa. Her larynx was damaged but salvageable and there was no significant carotid or venous injuries. The damaged structures were reconstructed and all that was required now was a wait and see approach. 

* * *

It wasn't very long before she woke, freaking silently at the tubes in her throat and with panic in her eyes until he was able to soothe her. Time passed while Hunt and Bailey checked up on her post surgery and had April moved to a room. When they determined that she was able to breathe on her own the tracheostomy tube was removed too. 

Still groggy from the procedure she was irritated to be kept awake even though she knew that a patient had to be awoken after a surgery to be able to ascertain any residual effects of the anesthesia. Jackson calmed her down once more and with extreme care got onto the hospital bed with her. With the hand connected to the drip on the opposite side she was able to turn onto her other side. Jackson spooned her from behind and both of them slipped easily into slumber. 

Disoriented, he blinked. Having the feeling of being stared at, he turned his head to the side and watched April watching him. She lifted her free hand and caressed his unshaven face, and similar to when he found her at Samuel's grave, she undid him with that gentle gesture. 

He closed his eyes for the barest second, trying to stem the tide, but then simply surrendered. He turned his face into the space between her shoulder and chin, taking care to be gentle near her wounds. He let go and allowed his pent up grief an outlet. His body shook with the force of his sobs, guttural cries that were muffled by her bandages but whose reverberations were felt through her skin and echoed in her heart. 

She stroked the back of his head as he grieved, knowing that while the bulk of it was almost losing her, this was about Samuel too and yes guilt and regret over their argument and what could have almost been their last words to each other. This was his time to grieve and this was her vow to him that she was there for him throughout all the heartache and anguish he felt. 

"Shh, it's okay…I'm here…I'm okay," she softly whispered, briefly forgetting that they hadn't yet tested her voice. 

His head popped up so swiftly that for a moment she envisioned him as a 'whack-a-mole' or rather a 'Jack-a-mole' or 'whack-a-Jack', the latter name which gave her other ideas, and damaged as she was, rough sex, or any sex, or thinking about any sex with her husband, should be the furthest thing on her mind. 

"Your voice…it's working, it's okay!" he exclaimed, laughing with joy. He leaned over her, his relief and happiness needing a further release. They both laughed in-between kisses, hers slightly lower, gruffer and quieter. 

His exuberance was wonderful to see. He kissed her all over the face and lay numerous gentle kisses over the bandage on her throat. What an emotional roller-coaster this day had been, one extreme to another. 

"We're still standing – Me and you!" Jackson murmured. 

"Me and you…Forever…"April concurred, sealing it with a healing kiss. 


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

He stood at the side of the bed looking down at her sleeping form. From the tear tracks, puffy eyes and fetal position she had curled herself into he knew that she had cried herself to sleep and the small corner of his heart not encased in anger and hurt, broke a little more. Slightly inebriated as he was and pulling his usual number of stoic for their Grey-Sloan Family, he felt exhausted. 

Home with April, having her in his arms, was where he had always allowed himself to be vulnerable. Except he hadn't had that for the longest time – since they'd lost Samuel in fact. How could they call it 'Losing' someone he wondered, not only had they barely had him with them but using the term 'Lost' implied pure carelessness and neither of Samuel's parents had ever been careless with him. His arrival into their lives had actually been eagerly anticipated, they had been so ready to herald in their new roles as parents, so excited to begin this new chapter of their lives, three instead of two. 

He'd tried to be strong for her after Samuel and twice there had been intermittent progress. First when they'd seen a shrink – a marriage therapist NOT a grief counselor or bereavement specialist – after the death of their baby and secondly during the immediate aftermath of her attack. 

He hurt. More than he'd been able to articulate, more than he thought possible. He hurt for himself and he hurt for April. He hurt for his son who never got to live; the knowledge that he couldn't protect Samuel ate at him. Most of all though, he hurt knowing that he'd lost April too. 

Being friends they had always counted on each other but from the moment she reached out and chose to marry him instead of the other guy, they scaled a new plateau in their relationship – they became all to each other. How many times had she defended him to Webber, his new step-dad, he realized, and he had stood up for his love, for his April, to his mother, the extremely formidable Catherine Avery (hyphen Fox, hyphen Webber? Who the heck knew?). 

How had they reached this point, where not only was he not a source of comfort and protection to her but where he'd actually become a hindrance to her recovery? Her fire within had been doused and where did he see the emergence of sparks today – when she was performing a daring trauma rescue! Ironic really, that ensuring the survival of a family is the catalyst to the conversation that destroys his. 

* * *

He's actually surprised to find her here, he thinks to himself as he prepares for bed, deliberately avoiding his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He is weary of viewing the image of the defeated, disappointed, extremely angry man in the mirror – well okay the anger is new or at least the acknowledgement of its existence is a novel approach for them. 

There's a reason that he rarely visits his inner emotions and unfortunately for him it's a lesson he's doomed to keep on learning. It's an Insanity, he reflects, continuously repeating the same mistake and expecting a different outcome each time – kinda like his very own Groundhog Day. He becomes a ticking time bomb ready to explode once his trigger is activated and his trigger today was April still wanting to leave for what was basically ANOTHER tour of duty, even though she had never been drafted by the United States Army in the first place! 

He climbs into bed and for the first time since their marriage he doesn't reach over to pull April into his arms. While he has calmed down somewhat, his anger is on a slow burn. They haven't resolved anything, not the return of his ultimatum and not her decision. 

He knows that he's blindsided her. Under normal circumstances the April that he loves would never knowingly hurt him as she has, but despite their short stint in therapy and his permitting her to witness his anguish that one time, they are nowhere near business as usual. 

April turns over and even while asleep she naturally gravitates towards his warmth, burrowing into his neck and with her arm slung over his waist. He lays still as a statue for a moment, a scene from that night playing as a movie reel before his eyes – he'd pushed her away he recalls, physically removed her arms from around his neck, breaking a promise to himself with that action. He'd vowed to never again reject her when after their marriage she explained how he'd devastated her when he'd discarded her after their almost pregnancy when they were first intimate. 

Without further analyzing he relaxes into her embrace, running his hand in a soothing motion up and down her back. It's become his pattern, usually after they've made love but also when they just lay in bed discussing each other's day or even when they were just too exhausted and fell straight into slumber. His arms have never felt so empty as the time when she was away and recently on the very rare occasion when either one of them has picked up a night shift. 

Vacillating between sleep and wakefulness, his musings are interrupted when he feels soft kisses on his neck. 

"April…" he whispers groggily, slightly exasperated. Such inappropriate timing, as usual – it's the Kepner way. Averys, on the other hand, have impeccable timing – see exhibit A, one interrupted Taylor/Kepner proposal! 

"What…what are you doing?" 

"I thought you wised up," she replies, trying her utmost to rekindle the fire by reverting to a past humorous moment – the moment she'd bared herself physically in the revolving door supply closet at work, ready to jump her husband's bones. 

She gazes into Jackson's not totally alert eyes and is this time clearly aware of the hurt she's been too blind to notice before. She's ashamed of herself. Samuel was his son too and in her quest for recovery she'd tunnel visioned her end goal – freedom from the never-ending pain and grief. All she'd accomplished, however, was burying the pain and in so doing burying the knowledge of Jackson's pain too. 

"I'm so sorry, Jackson," she whispers tears once again streaming down her face. "I…" she starts, not even sure how to continue, what to say. 

"Shh, sweetheart, let's just get some sleep, okay? We'll talk some more tomorrow," he reassures while thumbing the tears from her cheeks. 

She nods in affirmation, holding tightly onto the hands cupping her cheeks, afraid to release him lest he release her. 

Her forlorn expression tugs at his heartstrings and reverting, just temporarily mind you, to uncommunicative lone wolf Jackson Avery behavior he pushes aside his emotions, his anger and pain, for the mind numbing solace of sex. 

It's almost desperate and neither one of them are gentle, both afraid that if they expressed any other emotion aside from pleasure, the tenuous threads holding their marriage together would unravel. Thrusting frantically into the welcoming receptacle of her body, he's filled with an ominous foreboding, culminating in him switching their positions. She does not let up on the pace he's set but once both achieve their climax she slows her movements to a gentle rocking and it has the bittersweet finality of a farewell. They fall asleep immediately after and in repose their dread of loss ends with them curling up into each other and clinging tightly, fearful of the symbolism of letting go. 

* * *

He's terribly late the following morning and as April had been scheduled for an even earlier start, her absence that morning raises no red flags. He vaguely recalls a gentle kiss a "Goodbye" and an "I love you, always" which he later reflects would have tipped him off had he been fully conscious. 

He's actually quite upbeat and in a much more positive frame of mind – great sex and good food will do that to you he smirks as he hastily gobbles the breakfast April had left for him, his favorites. Apparently letting her feel the brunt of his anger had not been such a bad idea, she was going all out to atone for her past neglect and he could work with that. 

Perhaps they could look at last night as a re-commitment to their pledge to each other, he reflects as he jogs towards the hospital entrance from the parking lot. The idea is quickly jinxed when it hits him that the previous night had been his mother's wedding night and while he shuddered at the idea of thinking about his mother doing the nasty (even as blasé and nonchalant as she was about the subject, she was still his mother!) he didn't want to have that in common with her and he had a strong suspicion that his and April's first time together in San Francisco mirrored a first time for his mother and Richard Webber too. 

He rushes through the ER doors, hoping for a quick glimpse and good-morning kiss from his wife before hieing to the burn unit for his consult, but she was nowhere in the vicinity. 

Hunt corners him just before he steps onto the elevator with a seriously toned "Avery, we need to talk." 

"Can it wait Hunt? I'm way late for my patient," he replies wondering at the urgency he senses in Owen Hunt's voice. 

"Sure, come find me after. But seriously Avery, a heads-up would have been appreciated," Owen continues, confusing Jackson with his words and cool demeanor. 

He puts out his hand to halt the elevator door from closing and quirking an eyebrow responds with a confused "What?" 

"April's resignation," Owen continues unaware that the news he's imparting is a surprise to Jackson – more of a shock actually. "Effective immediately and without even the professional courtesy of two weeks notice!" he carries on uncharacteristically insensitive to the underlying nuances April's actions and Jackson's reactions are displaying. 

"I…I'll come see you as soon as I'm done," Jackson motions, pointing to indicate Hunt in his statement, the slight catch in his voice barely noticeable as he releases the elevator door allowing it to speed upward to his destination floor. 

He tries calling April on her mobile as soon as he exits the elevator, breathing a premature sigh of relief as it rings. The ringing continues for a while before it goes to voice mail and Jackson angrily disconnects. He has a patient to see to dammit, and apparently a wife to locate. 

* * *

Walking up to Owen Hunt he motions him towards the empty room that The Grey-Sloan Board has seconded in lieu of having no specified boardroom. Once there he starts pacing between the door and windows. 

By nature he is a very private person; the only person that knew all of his secrets was April, but this was information that he needed to find out about his missing wife, so pride took a backseat before Chief Hunt. Rubbing his hands agitatedly over his shaved head and then the back of his neck, he resumed his pacing and started his interrogation. 

"What happened this morning, Hunt? What did she say to you?" 

"She asked for a private moment, apologized for her actions and handed me the letter of resignation. She said that she's sorry for leaving the hospital in the lurch but she's unable to work any notice and if necessary the hospital could take the reparation out of her final paycheck," Hunt complied. 

"She's going to fucking Jordan right? After everything…" Jackson fumes, so livid he's unable to complete the sentence. Only April, he thinks, has this frightening ability to swing his emotions from pure elation to absolute rage. 

"No Jackson," Owen softly answers. "She's given up being a trauma surgeon. She made it abundantly clear that she's eighty-sixed trauma and especially working on the front-lines." 

"I don't understand…why is she not answering her phone? I have to go home Hunt, maybe she's there! I have to find out where her minds at," Jackson decides. 

Owen's words stop him at the door. "You know why she was so successful in the field and initially at yesterday's trauma situation? She doesn't get to see or treat babies while in combat. Did you notice the distress on her face when that patients new-born was brought to the wreckage yesterday? I think she's suffering from severe PPD combined with losing your baby and…" 

"We did not LOSE our son Hunt. He DIED! Our Samuel died!" Jackson interrupts with loud and clear enunciations, clueing Owen Hunt in to the fact that neither of Samuel Avery's parents had completely grieved or healed. 

* * *

For the first time in his life Jackson shuns his professional responsibilities. With no explanation to interns, attendings, patients or staff he rushes out of the hospital intent on getting home and receiving a rambling explanation from April. 

He feels her lack of presence the moment he sets foot into their apartment. Dejectedly he hangs his keys on the hook adjacent to the front door, caressing it for a moment as he recalls why the gadget is there to begin with. He walks into their bedroom, opens the closet door and immediately notices the gaps where her clothing hung before. How did he miss noticing the absence that morning? 

He scurries around looking for any clues, coming up empty and once more tries her phone. Amazingly he hears Alicia Keys 'If I Aint Got You' (a surprising choice from a die-hard Justin Timberlake fan!) the ringtone that she'd chosen especially for him. He locates the phone in the bedside table along with three other items that crush his soul – her police recovered wedding band and post-wedding 'engagement' ring and a note with two words, 'I'm sorry'. She'd refused to allow him to buy her a new set of rings after the attack, insisting that sentimentality outweighed opportune thievery. Obviously though sentimentality lost out to separation. 

Although he plans to be there two weeks hence when the plane for Jordan takes off, he seriously doubts that will be April's destination or course of action. He knows that their final argument, a regurgitation of an ultimatum he's used once before, really woke up a part of her that had been in denial for so long. Hunt was right, April hadn't healed. She was however in full flight mode and he had no clue as to her whereabouts. Where the fuck was his wife? 


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

On some level he acknowledged – this conversation was weird.

"Shonda is a good name – strong, proud…a force to be reckoned with."

"Are you crazy?! You want to name our baby after a murderer?! She kills people for a living! I'm sorry but you can't name a child Shonda. Shonda is the kid that steals other kids lunch money, she's the kid that punches other kids on the playground, Shonda's the bully and that's not gonna be our kid."

Why are these words he's uttering absurd yet a tad familiar? and there's something about last names as first names…

She gazes at him with the quirky smile of old and his happiness at her happiness jerks him awake. What a crazy dream, he reflects – he's done eating these hormonal induced concoctions before bed! He turns his head to the side and gazes lovingly at the recipient of these Jumping Jack hormones, her prominent belly up in the air. Shonda as a baby's name? He laughs to himself – where and when did that crazy ass name enter his consciousness?

* * *

 **Two Months Before…**

It was a quaint little seaside town, this little hamlet, where the investigator appointed by Mike Ferris, the Avery Family Attorney, had assured him his estranged wife was to be found. According to Mike and the blue-sheeted documents Mike had forwarded to him, April Kepner was most likely under the impression that she was his ex-wife. She was in North Haven, Maine, in Penobscot Bay, a town within the auspices of Knox County. In hindsight her settling here was quite predictable – April had searched for a sanctuary and found a Haven.

From what he was able to glean, via the Ferry Crossing and one inquisitive fount of information from a returning local, North Haven was predominantly a fishing and farming community that housed both a year-round island community and a prominent summer colony. The town was accessible by three-times daily ferry service from Rockland, or by air taxi from Knox County Regional Airport. In the interest of saving time he wished he'd known this before the drive down from Boston to Rockland and the subsequent ferry ride into Haven.

If he'd been his normal cool, calm and collected he knew he would have enjoyed the beauty of the scenic vista but all he could think about was those divorce papers and to cap of the situation just as he drove off the ferry John Legend started crooning…lyrics that spoke to him, that were a direct reflection of his feelings.

 _"Say something, I'm giving up on you, I'll be the one, if you want me to. Anywhere, I would've followed you, Say something, I'm giving up on you…"_

"Oh April," he mentally muses. "Should I have followed you?"

 _"And I am feeling so small, it was over my head, I know nothing at all. And I will stumble and fall, I'm still learning to love, just starting to crawl…"_

"This was new to me April, I was learning to love…you and…Samuel," his thoughts churn.

 _"Say something, I'm giving up on you, I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you. Anywhere, I would've followed you, Say something, I'm giving up on you…"_

"I'm sorry April," he whispered.

 _"And I will swallow my pride, you're the one that I love and I'm saying goodbye…"_

"I'll swallow my pride for you April, but you said goodbye. Why? Why did you run?" he questioned her in abstentia. His face scrunched into a self-deprecating combination grin/grimace as the song reached its apex and then concluded – wouldn't the old April have loved this lopsided serenade? Well aside from the song choice of course. She would probably have sang to him, with him ad-libbing comments throughout – they'd done it numerous times before, especially when they car-pooled to and from work and not to mention that 13 hour trip to Lake Tahoe for their honeymoon.

* * *

He reached his destination and sat in the parked car contemplating his next move when the woman hijacking his mind exited the building he was watching – North Haven's Doctors Rooms. He smiled at seeing her – even from that distance he couldn't help but admire her…she was beautiful, glowing in fact, apparently being away from him agreed with her. His slight grin disappeared completely however when April casually stepped into the arms of the silver-haired gentleman who walked out with her.

What the hell, he thought, angrily alighting from his rented vehicle, ready to beat the guy to a pulp – elderly or not the dude was stepping out with his wife! In that moment he conveniently forgot that he was there to formalize their divorce, in the eyes of April's God they were still married and adultery was a sin, wasn't it? Something else that opportunely slipped his mind was that April was under the impression that they were divorced – wasn't divorce anathema to the Kepner's beliefs as well? He crossed the street and was just about to pull the guy around when someone easily recognizable stepped out from the doors behind them.

"Karen," he name dropped, suspiciously.

"Dr. Avery," Karen responded trying to guiltily turn her face away. He'd been trying to find out where April was for the last six months and this brought home to him that his mother-in-law had been lying to him all along and not to mention trying to revert their relationship to a formal one.

Karen never approved of the induction-termination route they'd followed to stop Samuel from having a pain-riddled life and that decision had dropped him in her estimation. Not that he cared about her opinion one way or the other, what he hated was the guilt she piled onto April, dragging her between the two of them. He would never forgive her for not being there for her daughter.

"Jackson?" April questioned softly, very obviously surprised. "What…what are you doing here?" she anxiously pleated her white coat, biting the corner of her lip in that nervous gesture he used to love, most likely still did. From the first time she'd done it, in that San Francisco Hotel mens room, he'd always followed up with an antidote to her nervous habit by gently biting on that very spot and then soothing it with gentle suckling. At one time he'd reflected out loud to April that it surprised him that he never was able to leave a hickey there when, sensitive as her skin was, he left them everywhere else on her body. He gazed firstly at her lips and then as usual they got lost in each other's eyes, until she realized what she was doing and released her lip from the cage of her teeth.

"Actually it's good that you're here, I was gonna contact you soon…" she continued. "Let's go inside where we can talk."

Released from the spell of her mannerisms, he glanced at the grey-haired man who had pushed him into revealing himself before he was ready. It wasn't surprising that he didn't recognize April's father. Joe had sported a full head of red hair the last time they had met, just after April and he had wed at the hospital. Worry over his daughter had apparently removed all the vibrant color from Joe's hair.

"Mr. Kepner, sir," he held out his hand to shake Joe's. Even though he had robbed them of experiencing April's wedding he knew that he always had Joe's seal of approval – all the guy had wanted was his daughter's happiness.

"Jackson, it's good to see you, son. You and April have a lot to talk about so we'll leave you to it." Joe shook his hand then clasped his shoulder in a manly hug.

"What, Joe? April needs us, we need to be there too!" Karen interrupted.

"Karen," Joe Kepner, short of stature, just said the one word reinforcing who wore the pants in that family. He must be an amazing father Jackson reflected, a real example to emulate. It couldn't have been easy being the lone male voice in a family with five strong female voices.

* * *

"Shelby, please hold back any patients," April said to the receptionist as they walked into the building and were about to make their way to what he guessed were her consulting rooms.

"And who is this?" asked Shelby, all flirtatious Southern Belle.

"Dr. Jackson Avery, my ex-husband," April introduced, ever polite.

"Dr. Jackson Avery, April's husband," Jackson replied at the same time.

Shelby looked confused and April looked surprised.

"What…what did you mean?" April asked as soon as they entered her office.

"Is that all you have to say to me April, sneaking away like a thief in the night. Then going to the lawyer and signing that damn Post-nuptial contract and asking him to draw up divorce papers for you!" Jackson exclaimed, giving no quarter. "You gave up so easily on us, April!" he continued rubbing the back of his head, which he tended to do when he was agitated, a sign she was well aware of.

She reached up and grabbed his hands.

"It's what you've done before, more than once. You called it that day of your mother's wedding, Jackson, and I don't blame you one little bit," April softly replied.

"I'm a failure, Jackson. I've failed at all the major moments in my life…virgin – check, lover – check, fiancé – check, doctor – check, wife – check and mother…" she whispered the last. "I couldn't even protect my own child, Jackson, and according to my mother I have so much repenting to do…even God is angry with me," she wiped a tear from her eye. "The least I could do was give you your freedom, hoping that you would find happiness. I have so much to atone for with you. I can't believe I never asked how you were doing, it's a regret I'll carry with me until the day I die."

Jackson listened to her words, his heart breaking. He immediately changed his mind about Joe Kepner being a role-model father. Obviously The Kepners, with their religious fanaticism had done a real number on April. Not that he eschewed any responsibility – how many times had he rejected her again? When they thought she was pregnant that first time and then sleeping with Stephanie so soon after he broke up with her. When he told her about him and Stephanie, he knew she wanted to get back together. When she almost ran into a blazing bus to save his life and he could have lost her. Yet she chose him when someone else was about to propose to her, when his timing was so inappropriate, causing her to hurt that someone in the process. And this last time, when he gave her an ultimatum, instead of communicating with her. April had chosen to flee, both physically and emotionally but was he any better?

He'd been pacing up and down her office with all these thoughts churning through his mind. He was going to change their destructive pattern right now he promised himself, firstly by tearing up the _correct_ divorce papers that Mike had given him and then by showing April that she was far from a failure and the only woman he would ever love.

It was going to be a mammoth undertaking, because one thing he knew about Kepners was their unrelenting stubbornness. What they didn't know, however, was Avery stubbornness far outweighed anything the Kepners could bring to the table. He hesitated for a second realizing that April was both – boy did he have his work cut out for him! He turned around ready to make a reconciliatory start, when he found her leaning against her desk, with what was hidden before now clearly visible.

"You're pregnant!"

"Until God takes him or her," she softly replied.

"What…what are you saying? What's wrong with our baby?" he asked, a visible tremor in his voice.

"I'm at 24 weeks Jackson, the same time I…I killed our baby, our Samuel," she cried.

"You did not kill him, April, we did not want his life to be one of suffering and pain," he reached for her, pulling her into his arms. He closed his eyes gearing himself up to ask the next question. "Does this baby have Osteogenesis Imperfecta too?"

"I don't know, but with everything I've done I don't expect God to go easy on me."

"Come on April, you're a doctor! Have you had any tests done?"

"No! and I don't intend to. I'm not going through that again!"

There's a lot more below the surface, he considered. It wasn't going to be as easy as just saying, I want to try again. He was going to have to be devious about this, but there was hope.

* * *

He left her office without saying another word, hearing her call his name in the background. He had to hurry, otherwise he would miss Joe Kepner. Luck was on his side and he convinced Joe to return his rental to the airport. He removed his luggage – luckily he had packed, preferring to always be prepared.

Joe told him where April was staying, much to Karen's disgust. Quite conveniently it happened to be in a loft atop the surgery she was working at. So that's where he went, ready to wait outside her door. It wasn't too long after that he heard her footsteps and then her surprise at finding him there.

"Jackson…what…?"

"So you owe me, right April? You want to make amends?"

"Ye…ah," she hesitantly responded. She was wise to his thought process, no one else knew him better. But he was counting on her emotional state to not be astute to his machinations – all's fair in love and war and all that jazz, right? And even though this may verge on war first, he was resolute that love would out.

"I'm going to stay with you until the baby's born, then we'll decide on a visitation schedule or you could just give him to me," he released the arrow. Them's fighting words he thought, but he needed to see her reaction.

"What?!" she cried out.

"You're saying you owe me and I want this baby! I'm going to take care of him until he's born. I don't believe you could ever do anything to harm your baby, but I don't know where your minds at April. I need to make sure you do what's best for the baby and that's why I'm going to stay with you."

A hurt expression crossed her face and she lifted her hand to her heart, which was very telling for him. Before they'd found out about Samuel's condition, she'd continuously touched her belly, sometimes with a reassuring cuddle and she'd loved it when he would rub her tummy too, trying to convince him to talk to the baby.

She was distancing herself from this baby, out of fear of losing him, or her. He was going to bring back the April he loved, the loving April who would love her child more than anything in the world. Boy, did he have a lot of damage to undo.

She opened the door and motioned him to enter.

"Where are you going to sleep? I only have the one bed," ever-practical April retorted and so his plan was set into motion.

"We're still married April, we'll sleep together of course."

He was going to have to start with some tough love. He was going to make her feel again, but he had to be subtle. April Avery née Kepner was nobody's fool.

April had chosen flight, with the best of intentions mind you, but in this last trimester of her pregnancy he was going to do all he could to get her to change her tune and for both of them to fight for their marriage and their family.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"What the hell April? Why do I feel like I'm in a furnace?" Jackson exasperatedly sighs. 

"Hot Flashes?" a serious voice supposes from the other side of the bed. 

"What?!" he exclaims, amused despite himself. He'd mistakenly thought he'd have his work cut out to bring back their camaraderie, forgetting for a moment her unfiltered honesty and rare, wry wit, which to be frank had no concept of perfect timing. It had always amazed him how well her humor complemented his and at times even outpaced him. She was the only person that had successfully, consistently outsnarked him and unlike the dark and twisty 'sisters' of Grey Sloan (or 'Mertina' as he coined them) her drollness was never ever mean-spirited or cruel. 

"Early onset Menopause?" she continued, not letting up, a smile in her voice. 

"You really wanna go there, Cougar?" he laughingly rejoins, referencing the four month age gap between them. He'd always joked about being her toy-boy. 

"Electric Blanket," her now sleepy voice replies. 

"Well put it off please," he begs. "April? April, are you asleep?" he absurdly enquires, getting up to turn the thermostat on the blanket down only to discover that the electric blanket had not even been plugged in. It was an anomaly that he'd experienced once before. 

The heat radiating from April's body was the same as when she'd been pregnant with Samuel. Whereas before she'd tightly curl herself into his body for warmth. When she was pregnant however, her body heat necessitated that he stay as far away from her as possible. It kinda put a spoke in his wheel – he wanted to close-off her escape from uncomfortable conversation by ensuring that she couldn't escape his arms at bedtime and he'd hoped that the weather in this coastal town would co-operate in this endeavor. 

It was a moot point now though as both his wife and child couldn't bear the claustrophobia of his arms. He was no Psychologist or even a Psychiatrist but thinking about the baby gave him another idea to get April to listen to him – he was just going to have to be supremely devious, well more than he already was, about the whole plot. 

He piloted a test run. 

"April?" he enquired in a whisper. 

"Huh, what?" she groggily answered. 

"Oh nothing…go to sleep," Jackson quickly replied. 

He waited a few more minutes before trying again. "April…" an almost inaudible murmur. 

"Hmm…" she was still above the ether, not yet succumbed. 

A few more minutes, just to be on the safe side, he decided. This first time did not necessitate her attentiveness at all. In fact he required her supine, as far from alert as it was possible to be. Only once the rhythm was established then would the tricky part kick-in – April's unaware voluntary participation. 

He needed her awake and aware for the future conversations, but unaware of his awareness of her wakefulness – boy how confusing was that! He was going to be living the embodiment of the vaudeville routine of 'Who's on First?' It would be no comedy skit however, but a straightforward declaration of his feelings for her, albeit in a manner contrary to a direct approach. 

After calling out her name a few more times and finally receiving no response, he confirmed that April was dead to the world…for that moment at least, here on their first night back together. He lifted up her pajama top, barring her rounded belly to his gaze. Placing a few butterfly kisses along her abdomen, he received a gentle kick hello from the baby. With a wry grin adorning his face, he curled his right hand into a fist and with a feather light fist bump high-fived the baby. He put his mouth against April's navel and speaking in a muted undertone to his son or daughter said "We've got this, bud!" 

* * *

Subtlety is the name of the game and one that Jackson Avery has learned the mastery of since his sojourn in Haven. Aside from his obvious charms and total mastery of his looks, his 'Avery Sparkle' has been a surprising means to an end – essentially garnering him an Attending Position at The Penobscot Bay Medical Center. It's possible though that his legendary family legacy had a small part to play too. 

His new routine requires a ferry ride from North Haven to Rockland and from there an 8 minute drive, sans traffic, into Rockport and onward to Pen Bay Medical. He's quite surprised that his initial perception of Knox County as a series of laid-back coastal towns is actually much more. Rockport is quite the bustling metropolis and really advanced in the medical field too and Glen Cove Drive houses not only Pen Bay Medical but also Penobscot Bay Neurology. Also on the Drive and an added advantage in its accessibility is Pen Bay Medical Center Heliport, which facilitates the transportation of those requiring medical treatment from all corners of Knox County. 

Aside from this detour in his career, he still contracts out to Grey Sloan Memorial and The Harper Avery Foundation, communicating the majority of the time via technology – mobile, email, Skype, and business conferencing whenever a Grey Sloan Board Meeting is convened. 

Also, Boston to Maine is but a car ride or very short helicopter trip away, so access to Foundation Headquarters is well within reach. Speaking of Headquarters, the word conjures visions of the base of operations of superheroes and he briefly wonders what superpowers he could claim as his own – well his alter ego would be Dr. Plastic, almost as bad as 'The Plastics Posse' he laughingly deduces. 

It's actually the perfect solution; laid-back coastal town with friendly citizenry, humane working hours but still with the prospect of cutting-edge procedures and, most importantly to him, building a quality AND quantity life with his family. 

Contrary to the unsolicited opinions and advice from their so-called friends at Grey Sloan Memorial, it's a lifestyle he would have chosen even if his family consisted of just April and himself…being Just Japril. Their self-proclaimed motto of 'Me and You' had fallen to the wayside, what with their lack of open and honest communication and while it was _slightly_ dishonest to April and his lawyers that he'd come looking for a divorce, he justified his fraud with the conviction that this was the 'in' he required. He was, in the interim, diligently and delicately working on Team AppleJacks emerging from their tunnel of grief if not totally healed then at least on the path of restoration together. 

His mental acuity surprised him; he was actually giddy at the challenge he faced, that of winning his wife back. Even though a part of him still grieved Samuel's death (and always would) he was allowing himself to get excited about meeting their second child. It's a destination and mindset he hoped to bring April to. 

Home was wherever April resided and the excruciating lesson that had to occur three times before it took root, was that her absence had taught him that his happiness and home was April. He would follow her anywhere. He loved her and would never leave her for even if there were a hundred reasons to give up, he would search and find the one reason to hold on. 

Admittedly being absent from Grey Sloan Memorial and especially their colleagues, is a welcome hiatus from all their judgement. He's particularly appalled by Meredith Grey's condescension and insensitivity to what they've been through and although he's absolved her behavior in the light of her misfortune he is cognizant of her lack of condolences to them. With gossip being rife at their previous working environment, he's even aware that on the day that Samuel died Meredith's main focus had been getting laid. Aside from that and with selfish thoughtlessness during a conversation with Richard and Catherine, she'd said to his mother "I don't know who's dead for you". Apparently his son did not even merit an existence according to Meredith Grey. 

He's really not being hypocritical, her life was her own to live as she saw fit – he just expected that April's kind heartedness would be reciprocated. April had been there for Meredith when she'd experienced a miscarriage the day that Gary Clarke shot up the hospital and, at Meredith's behest, it was a secret that she'd kept for her too. 

Some might argue that miscarrying a fetus was not the same as the death of a child, but his gentle April felt deeply for others. So he'd kinda had it with how their coworkers looked down on her and particularly because she possessed qualities that, in his eyes, put them all to shame. He was righteously indignant on April's behalf and while he followed no religious ideologies and with no gloating intended, when he thought of Meredith's insensitivity one phrase leapt to mind – "Karma's a bitch." 

Aside from Meredith Grey, another one on his shit list is Miranda Bailey. The day before April had been attacked and then again on the day of that major trauma and his mother's and Richard's wedding, he'd heard Bailey's disparaging remarks about the 'old Kepner'. 

She'd derided all the qualities that Jackson loved and admired in April – to Bailey and her ilk, April's compassion and heart were synonymous with weakness. Bailey's mockery and mimicry of his wife was painful to hear for the simple reason that he knew April had the utmost admiration for Dr. Bailey and to find out that she did not even merit reciprocal respect would have been a further raw ache to her tender heart. 

As April's best friend he'd always been protective of her but as her husband he would safeguard her with everything that he had. Bailey was so deluded in her arrogance, which trait he supposed was to be expected in the pint-sized 'Nazi', being that she was a surgeon. Her lack of humility, though, in the face of all her faults, more than one of which had almost got the hospital sued on at least two separate occasions, guaranteed that Jackson would totally throw the full weight of his 51% vote _against_ the appointment of Dr. Miranda Bailey as the next Chief of Surgery of Grey Sloan Memorial. 

Jackson was no stranger to women of strength – his mother was a proud example. Catherine Avery was a woman of steel who made no bones about who and what she was. Miranda Bailey, on the other hand, masqueraded as strength, a selfish kind – her deceptive comfort concealed a cunning, cold connivance. His April though, she was tempered steel. Her superpower was empathy. And today, that was the rub. 

April had fortified her inner resources and surrendered the life she carried to spare him pain and suffering and she had endured the personal anguish. Burying her grief had unforeseen consequences however – she'd lost hope and a bit of compassion too. What led them to the path they were on was him holding up a mirror to his grief. 

April's emotions had unfurled and her heart and mind could not handle that she'd deprived the one person in the world that mattered most to her and that was in dire need of her kindness, consideration and love. She was functioning in survival mode, a disconnect of her physical being and mental consciousness – a Sleeping Beauty. It was up to this Prince Charming to step up and awaken her heart again. Wait…had he muddled fairytale analogies again? Whatever, he thought, as long as he got to kiss the girl…and live their happily ever after, of course. 

* * *

They fell back into routine seamlessly. His plotting, however, was temporarily stalled. Even in the midst of self-flagellation and doubt, April knew him well enough to know when he was up to no good. She kept a beady eye out for any whiff of a scheme and subconsciously put a kibosh on his machinations. 

Not only was the plan on a temporary lull but the effect of the interruption delayed the conversations he hoped to have with his unborn child. He consoled himself with the notion that it was a fleeting diversion and that implementation of his strategy would occur as soon as April became comfortable enough to let her guard down. The waiting game, conversely, had an unintended side-effect. 

Exacerbated by pregnancy, April's hormones were hay-wire and he fondly recollected their first pregnancy before the diagnosis – hormonal April was a sex fiend and she brooked no refusal. She wanted it when she wanted it, even to the extent of revisiting supply closets and on-call rooms at work. Since their marriage she'd put a moratorium on having sex at work, considering it undignified and unprofessional but all her fine principles had taken a dive when pregnancy hormones had kicked in. 

What had made the diagnosis so untenable, aside from the obvious, was that it hit them out of the blue. April had been so diligent and vigilant with her body, her eating habits and her pre-natal supplements and her absolute conviction that their baby would be fine had even allayed his fears. 

Before the boom was lowered…or rather fell onto them, hammering them into the ground, they'd been experiencing a near perfect pregnancy. April suffered minimal morning sickness was emotional at times, true, and was so horny that _he_ experienced pregnancy cravings – _he_ wanted _her_ all the time. Which brought him back to the longing expression on her face now. 

She gazed at him with that glint in her eye. He decided to test out his hypothesis and removed the T-Shirt he'd been planning to wear to bed. And there it was. 

She gazed at him lasciviously, biting her bottom lip in that intensely concentrated way that immediately and always gunned his libido – just that one action of hers reduced him to a slobbering mess of want. She was clueless about it though. From that first time she'd bitten her lip so seductively, the intent vivid on her face, that hotel bathroom had become an oasis of pleasure. What he'd been able to glean later from her was that she'd always thought it was her direct gaze and their suggestive dialogue that had got the ball rolling. He'd never mentioned to her that the lip bite was his kryptonite – with it she unwittingly unmanned him by innocently controlling his hunger for her. She revved his engine and he was ready to go. 

She turned away this time though, hiding her expressive face and the unbidden desire to copulate. But he knew her – although she'd managed to surprise him with her leaving – she felt that she couldn't ask him to make love to her with the status of their marriage in doubt. 

For a brief moment he considered using the tack that had got him into her apartment and life once again, that of using the line that she owed him. He immediately rejected it however. One aspect of their relationship that was always totally honest was their lovemaking and he had two reasons for not tarnishing that. 

Firstly, he loved how open and honest and physically in tune they were with each other and secondly he decided that it was time for them to expose themselves in the same vein emotionally. The scheme that he had planned was to uncover their vulnerabilities, to bring about truthful communication, even if it required April to be an initial witness to the process, bringing about a level of comfort that allowed her to open up emotionally to him too. 

With that in mind, he cautiously approached her, turned her face towards him and lifted her chin for direct eye to eye communication. If her lip biting was his kryptonite he knew that his intense stare was hers and he used it unhesitatingly. She got him back immediately and he was mesmerized by pearly white teeth worrying the corner of her bottom lip. 

"I want you. I miss you and I want you." The declaration flowed forthrightly from his lips. 

April regarded him with a surprised expression and a slightly misty eyed gaze before attacking his lips in a wild kiss. Their kisses were a contradiction – they explored each other's mouths like it was virgin territory, it had been a long six months since their last kiss and yet on the other hand they knew exactly where to nip and bite to cause gasps and sighs of excitement. They pulled away from each other after a few minutes, gulping for breath, their lungs on fire. 

Jackson scrutinized her uncertain expression and had to ask, "April, do you not want to do this?" 

In lieu of a verbal response she simply removed her top and attacked his lips passionately once again. 

They made love with a wild abandon but Jackson made sure not to crush her, well she mostly enjoyed being on top anyway. No mention was made though of the sensitivity and size of her breasts, she simply moaned in excitement at the ministrations they received and Jackson definitely did not bring up the rounded curve of her abdomen – he simply ghosted over the area while caressing the rest of her. 

As she lay in his arms after they'd both come down off the high, he realized that the baby had indirectly given him yet more ammunition in this fight to win back his love. He would woo her with hormone induced sex on the one hand and long conversations with the baby telling him or her everything that he wanted April to hear as the other grenade in his arsenal. It was a double-pronged assault. 


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"So kids, the first time I met your mom, she…" 

"Oh no you didn't – not 'How I met your Mother', Jackson! And what do you mean _'kids'_ huh?! You're talking multiples again!" 

"Sheesh, April – I'm trying to have a conversation with our children. See? They don't want you to butt in. Feels like you have a litter in there, babe! A very annoyed litter – Avery annoyed? Hmmm, Catherine Avery genes strike early…You wanna hear this story, right kidos?" 

_"Jackson!"_

Flurried as she was by his antics, it was more in the form of a playful exasperation. She was secretly thrilled. Electrified by the possibilities of what all the kicking meant. Euphoric at what that signified. Elated with how far she and Jackson had come in their journey back to each other. But most of all, she was on a natural high; ecstatic to be experiencing a healthy, physically obstacle-free pregnancy and exhilarated to be on the cusp of giving birth, hopefully complication free. 

While she would never be able to totally relax, her frame of mind leading up to the birth was a surprising miracle to her. It hadn't been an easy ride but the master manipulator, whose deviant lips were at this very moment glued to her navel, had persevered in his stealthy machinations, slowly overthrowing her insecurities and fears. 

He was unaware though, that she'd been on to him since the inception of his plan. His modus operandi was to try and outsmart her by having her believe that he was oblivious of her conscientious observation to his conversations. From the beginning he was heedless as to how alert she was to his well-intentioned manipulation and that she'd knowingly but stealthily submitted to his maneuverings. To put it simply, he didn't know that she knew that he knew she knew not only what he wanted her to know but also _that_ he wanted her to know. It was unexpectedly confusing. 

* * *

It was a dark and stormy night – the night that intrigue visited. An electrical storm caused a blackout, which in turn led to covert black ops. It started with a furtive whisper, this one not meant to be overheard by her. The only reason she became privy to it was because Jackson and Co. could not agree on the name of the clandestine op – leading to the first father/offspring altercation, and that too in-utero. 

_"Commencing Undercover Op DM, aka Dr. Mom!"_

Although spoken in a hushed tone, the words reverberated, echoing acoustically to her auditory cannel. 

The response was instantaneous – wild kicking ensued. The unexpected ferocity of movement in her tummy was enough to revive her completely from her half wakeful state. 

Blackout was still in effect. The power failure had driven them to bed earlier than normal and as Jackson's passion for B-ball could not be indulged, he concentrated on satiating his other craving, the all-consuming appetite he had for her. 

Although, even if he'd still been able to indulge vociferously in the armchair Basketball game, there was still the medical drama (some colorless anatomy?) that she wanted to watch after – so "Netflix and Chill" was very much on Jackson's Agenda. As he laughingly explained to her this was the newest catch-phrase, what the youngsters were using as a seduction technique – a basic rework of the pop-cultural cliché "Would you like to come up and see my etchings?" So while 'Netflix' was absent, it was 'Chill' out there, _in_ there, really. 

He was ever so romantic; focused and attentive and their intimacy was underscored by glowing candlelight. His over cautious nature though had him blowing out the candles before they succumbed to slumber...or so she thought. Here in the pitch-blackness of night he was apparently wide awake, discussing strategy. 

She was fully roused now too but made no movement to alert him to this fact. This conversation was riveting. 

_"Okay, okay…Commencing Undercover Op MD, aka Medical Doctor! Yeah I know that's the one you like and that it's more secret and easier to hide from your mother, but you know I'm an MD too, right little tykes, and your mom…well let's just say she's too pure of heart, she'll never pick-up what we're up to!"_

She almost gave herself away with a loud snort but was distracted by his conversing with the baby in plural and also she was mesmerized by the adorable exchange. How long had this been going on, she wondered? She was fascinated by the whimsy…and his methodology too – no baby-talk, he was parental but not patronizing. 

It was an obvious continuation of a previous chat, enough of one for Jackson to be able to interpret the non-verbal cues. Come to think of it, the physical activity in her belly seemed to intensify whenever Jackson was close and more especially when they were having a conversation together. She was mesmerized to be an audience to the developing bond between her husband and their offspring, but she was also still afraid to allow hope to take the wheel of her metaphorical vehicle. It ate at her that Jackson never got to bond with Samuel. In her heart of hearts she knew that he would be a great daddy. 

She listened intently trying to discern what plot was being hatched to gang up on her. Was she 'bad cop' in this scenario? the yin to his yang in respect of parenting styles? It became quiet. She frowned to herself, confused by his actions and the almost inaudible chat with her belly, which she now realized was not meant to be overheard by her. 

All became clearer the following night when, despite her resolve to remain awake, she was rudely revived by the deceptive sting of a feather-light combination of pinch and tickle. He was a tad Machiavellian, his implementation cunning and duplicitous but, as she later came to appreciate, the intent was pure. It was for the greater good of their relationship and family and although he was ruthless in the execution of his plan, the basis for his scheming was love. 

He maneuvered her with the masterful art of honest communication, conveyed very unconventionally. He was her best friend as well as the love of her life and despite how emotionally closed off he was, _she knew him_. He approached a problem head-on, plunging full-steam ahead for a solution but he was also intuitive and inventive – in this instance he was employing a circuitous route to her heart. The least that she could do was co-operate, right? Her compliance was a reciprocal manipulation, allowing him to believe that the result of his connivance was a successful implementation of Plan DM…or was it MD? 

"You know your mom loves you, right? Pfft, what am I telling _you_ for…you can feel her heartbeat from the inside and you know it beats for you…and for me. _Me and you_." 

He kissed the right side of her belly. "Mama loves you," he whispered. 

He kissed the left side of her belly, switching to the other significant parental title. "Dad loves you," he murmured. 

Then, quite loudly, almost like the bang of a Crackerjack (a CrackerJackson?!), alleviating the quietness of before…"Dr. D out!" 

* * *

He eased her into the operation with surprising finesse. It started with an observation, sometimes a proclamation followed by a nightly epilogue, which he'd fashioned the first night the plan went into effect. The spontaneous beauty of his nightly sign off started cracking the façade and the initial implementation of this ritual had unbidden tears spilling. It was really well-played. 

What totally melted her though, aside from the honest emotion, was the realization that the formation of this nighttime habit and the action itself, although a by-product, was not a maneuver. It was simply an impulsive act by a previously closed-off individual opening himself up, unconditionally, to loving his children. His plan had an unintended boon it seemed – it unpacked his previous emotional unavailability. 

"Your mom, she's so beautiful – inside and out…but you wanna know what the dopest thing about her is, huh? Her big heart!" The narrative continued. 

"Now while she's never been comfortable interacting socially – she's just way too honest for society to handle – throw her into a crisis or trauma and your mom…well she's just gangbusters! She becomes this super confident Amazon and she's so bossy!" he reminisced to her belly. "She's all that and a bag of chips!" 

Peering out at him through the tiny slits created between her upper and lower eyelids as she sneaked a quick peek, she observed the wide grin that he sported. He was messing with her, hoping to captivate her with his witty repartee of slang and she had to admit, he was mad funny, a real smart-ass. She knew this exchange was for her benefit but playing along she quickly but obviously shut her eyes when he chanced a glance. Unable to physically observe him any longer, she was not impervious to his still palpable excitement. Oh, the game was on! 

Seemingly forgetting that this conversation had a captive audience of fetuses and the subject herself, he waffled on, almost in a reminiscent fashion, as if he was simply talking to himself. 

"Her compassion, though, is what defines her – that and her capacity for empathy. Yeah, April just loves helping people. She learns their names and their stories and they remain human beings requiring her help to fix what's broken," he blathered. "She doesn't look at them as just organs or opportunities for her to showboat," he reflected. 

Turning his attention once more to his listeners, he continued, "Not to say that your mom isn't competitive – _you_ know how much she loves to win – but it's always to the advantage of the underdog. Big corporation or big hospital versus little patient and your mom is always on the side of the patient. Don't let the fact that we're part of the Harper Avery legacy fool you – your mother would go toe to toe with your Great Grandfather Harper if she got the whiff of an injustice. She is a rare individual. Her compassionate heart actually makes her an exceptional surgeon," he concluded on a solemn note. 

"Do you want to hear another little secret, hey? Your mother, she's a heartbreaker – and she doesn't even know it!" He poured on the sugar with a heavy hand, but she was not one to complain. 

"One time this comic-con dude faked a heart attack just to be near her in the ER…then there was this doctor and a para…er…nevermind…" he stuttered to an abrupt halt. 

Unable to control it this time, an unbidden snigger managed to escape her but she quickly disguised it as a rattling grunt (definitely NOT a snore!) and shuffled around in bed to mimic 'asleep but turning over'. She couldn't believe he actually almost went there – talk about rambling… 

"Anyway…so, many people just adore this complicated vessel that's allowing you room and board at the moment," he jokingly affirmed, impersonating a rad, chillin, somewhat unconventionally humorous dad but most likely having just run out of synonyms for 'Mom'. 

Well he had to change it up a bit to keep the troops entertained, she supposed. 

"Here's something that I for one found unbelievable – _your mother_ has Grandma Catherine's seal of approval! Now _that_ is some mean feat, I tell you! You'll realize how momentous that is once you meet your grandmother!" he determined, settling on that line of thought. 

"Okay, information overload, huh?! Continue tomorrow?" Declarative sentences both ending questioningly. She assumed that the motionlessness in her belly was his cue to accept the confirmation. 

He switched it up this night by kissing the left side of her abdomen first, adding "Mama loves you." 

Then a kiss to the right side, "Dad loves you too." 

And signing off, "Dr. D out!" 

* * *

"So, you know how I told you all about your mom's big heart and how much she loves you? I _did not_ exaggerate, not even a little! Hey…I resent the implication that I'm a drama queen!" he gently scolded towards her undulating uterus. 

"You may be sensing some hesitancy on her part and there's a very good reason for that. You see, not too long ago, your mom…well she had her heart broken. Mine too really – but your mother, she feels things so deeply and this is an ache that will never leave us. Having you helps – not replacements mind you, but your presence brings us hope…and happiness," he reassured. 

"You guys had a brother, Samuel Norbert Avery," he continued in a thickened voice. Just saying Samuel's name always broke him a little, she realized. Like her he probably remembered how his name came about and how perfectly it fit their absent little one. Apparently though, their other brood inherited their father's unorthodox (let's be real, simply weird!) sense of humor, but also it seemed his 'perfect' timing – on a sliding scale, of course. As opposed to her, his timing was textbook! 

It was much needed levity she realized, so she simply let it be and enjoyed the conversation. The movements she experienced and watched simulated the feeling and motion of giggles. 

Amazingly enough it seemed that her kid (kids?) found the name hilarious. It was as if a supernatural hand tickled their funny bone or maybe Samuel himself communing from the great beyond. He would definitely have had a bone to pick with them about the inclusion of 'Norbert' as his middle name! 

"Okay enough with the attitude, your mom gave me grief about Great Uncle Norbert's name too!" he chastised her belly. 

"Now where was I before I was so rudely interrupted…you know that's very unbecoming behavior for Averys hey…now calm down both of you or I'm gonna have to throw some shade à la Nicki Minaj," he grinningly chided as _his_ admonishment continued unabated. 

"Kids, what's good?!" he reprimanded to the persistent kicks shadowing her sleepwear, verbally pantomiming the drag heard around the world – but of course substituting the name of the spoilt brat exhibitionist it referred to. 

It required valiant restraint for her not to give up the game. While she knew children required discipline and to be taught ethical and moral values – she definitely wouldn't want their kids exhibiting Miley Cyrus behavior – she was not in favor of the major diss that just occurred. To be fair though, she knew that he meant it as a humorous reproof, expressed anecdotally. Understanding his intention is what allowed her to keep mum! No pun intended, she mentally added, amused despite herself. 

* * *

All her good intentions went up in smoke the next night with the advent of Jackson's nonchalant conversation. All geared up to fight fire with fire (being the absence of fire in this situation), his verbal diarrhea – intentional, as she later surmised – pushed her into a response. Boy, was he good and knowing her weaknesses he got her playing right into his hands! 

"You know, your mom kinda grew on me. I enjoyed her quirkiness and her unfiltered honesty but I thought that just made her a unique, 'got your back' best friend. Until that night in San Francisco when she kissed me and we had S-E-X for the first…" 

He was rudely cut-off by a flamboyantly obvious splutter. 

"Jackson, what are you doing?" she calmly capitulated, ratifying his victory. So he knew which of her buttons to push! She willingly surrendered. She was not about to discuss their sex life with her kids! 

"Just telling the kids about me and you," he gloatingly smiled, accepting his triumph. She did not verbally express his win, but her unpremeditated response was in itself a defeat, an 'All Hail' to his conquest. 

"Well, stop it. It's inappropriate. And spelling out the word…" she rolled her eyes at him. 

He grinned buffoonishly, "Better doing than spelling…" 


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

They were in a good place. Being away from GSM and Seattle was what they'd needed. Not that the hospital and their past co-workers were the source of their misery but sometimes a clean slate or a fresh start was the ticket.

Jackson considered his mission a success. Operation DM (or MD per his kids!) had him opening up to April as he'd never done before with her directly or even in therapy. The conversion of his plot from deviously 'hidden' to openly transparent had not halted the movement. On the contrary, the doors of communication were wide open. Not only did they discuss any and every thing before they went to sleep but they'd taken to long walks along the coastline, enjoying the frigid temperatures coupled with the stunning vistas and the absorbing and at times heartbreaking conversations.

It became second nature to talk about Samuel and he became the catalyst for all the difficulties they'd been unable to unburden to each other. April took to referring to Samuel as their Angel Therapist and while Jackson had no belief in an afterlife or even supernatural beings or spirits, he saw no harm in this compromise too. If he could attend her Church without believing in a Deity, he could definitely withstand her referring to Samuel as their Guardian Angel.

With everything laid bare and both of them open and willing to repair #Japril, Jackson realized that he'd found his April again. She'd been so lost after Samuel and while they'd initially been there for each other the method of their individual healing had driven a wedge between them.

This frame of mind had brought all April's old insecurities to the fore. Feeling that she was a failure and therefore not worthy of him had sent her fleeing. Closing herself off to her needs and indirectly his as well, she'd taken it upon herself to try and rescue others, to help in a manner that did some good. Seeing the acceptance that mothers in those war-torn areas had achieved on watching and experiencing the death of loved ones had changed her. Where before she'd only emulated their strength, by the time she'd returned home she'd become strength.

The discovery of the failure of her self-sustaining strength though, was the realization that all she'd done was bury her grief and her insecurities. Jackson's ultimatum had opened her eyes. Conversely her seeming to not need him in her journey of healing, had played into his abandonment issues – to this day he had no idea where his father was or even if he was still alive.

Communication which Samuel had unlocked for them, allowed them the opportunity to re-kindle their once strong bond of friendship, where they relied on each others honesty in decisions affecting their every-day lives.

* * *

If you ignored the fact that their previous healthy pregnancy resulted in an untenable diagnosis, they would both be joyfully experiencing this pregnancy too. Although April had tried to disconnect herself from the changes her body was experiencing, in a futile attempt to protect her heart, her analytical, doctors mind ensured that she could not remain ignorant. While her OB-GYN had done ALL the requisite tests and while she religiously adhered to a healthy diet and made sure that she never forgot her pre-natal supplements, she instructed her doctor to only let her know if anything was wrong.

Jackson added onto that instruction once he rolled into town, and with his oh so charming persona he'd managed to sus out exactly the development and prognosis of her fetuses. Yeah, it was therefore no surprise to her to find out that he was the first one to know that they were expecting twins. The massive kicking she'd experienced before he spilled the news had her almost hyperventilating with worry. OI had done such a number on her mind that at one stage she'd thought there were just limbs floating around in her body.

Jackson had saved her peace of mind these last months before the birth. His covert black ops had her hurtling with reckless abandon, straight into positivity – her babies would be fine.

* * *

She was on such a natural high that she felt she could almost levitate without a permit – or was that the drugs talking? Jackson laughed at her dramatics when she explained. She'd decided to forego drugs and was going ALL natural. If anything it was the pain talking.

Jackson was in a state himself. His panic had him feeling like he was being sucked into an unseen vortex. This was exacerbated by what he'd just found out. Their OB-GYN was stuck in Rockport, April was in labor and there was a major storm curtailing trips via ferry.

Forgetting everything all his mind could process was Dr. Quin Medicine Woman and wondering if he should be boiling water. Surprisingly April calmed him down, reminding him that he was a doctor and that he'd delivered a baby before.

"Jackson, you got this!"


End file.
